


Flawed

by DarkSecrets3



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Fandom, spideypool - Fandom, superfamily - Fandom
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Smut, It's Deadpool what do you expect, M/M, They fuck at the end though so beware, duh - Freeform, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 190,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSecrets3/pseuds/DarkSecrets3
Summary: Rain was beating down on the roof of the car as Aunt May drove through the darkened city. The sound of quiet tears came from the backseat, it was hard losing everything at such a young age. The decision broke her heart but she knew deep down it was the right thing to do. She pulled up to the building and was greeted by two old friends with sad eyes. Goodbyes are hard but knowing her Peter would be safe was relief enough. Or so she hoped. Follow the adventure of a grown Peter struggling to be an adult and protect his many secrets from his Super protective Family (see what I did there) who only see him as their perfect son, never seeing faults and flaws until a certain mercenary came into his life and showed Peter how to live.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I'm not 13. This isn't my first fanfic, just my first time (wink wink.) on this site. I'm just a lonely lesbian wanting to write about all my gay marvel babies. Enjoy.

Prologue 

Peter would always remember the night of the storm. The way the black clouds covered the evening sky. The way the wind howled that it felt like his whole house was shaking. The way the rain came pouring down so hard, Peter thought it might break a window. But that's not why he would always remember this night. Tonight was the night that Aunt May was taking him away. He didn't know where or why, all he knew was that he didn't want to go. He could hear Aunt May shouting his name from down the hall, looking for him. But Peter would not budge from his hiding spot in the top cabinet of his kitchen. He was no more than four years old, and already small for his age; he could easily fit into tight places. Peter's cabinet shook from the wind outside and he felt tears rising to his eyes. The small boy refused to cry though, he was a big boy now, and big boys don't cry. Peter hugged his knees closer to his chest as he heard his Aunt May getting closer. Sooner than he knew it, his hiding place was revealed and his cupboard was filled with the flickering light from the kitchen. 

“There you are Peter!” Aunt May smiled, taking Peter from his cabinet, “How'd you get up there?” It was a pointless question. Both Peter and May knew very well how he was able to climb up onto the counter and sneak into the cupboards. Just a few weeks ago, when Aunt May took Peter on that junior tour of a science lab, Peter had been bitten by one of their spiders. Ever since then, Peter started to get these strange abilities that made him feel like a real super hero. He could conquer any jungle gym before, but now he was even better at climbing. He could stick to walls! And just recently, Peter was learning to shoot silly string from his wrists, or at least, what looked to be silly string. Peter was much to young to notice, but taking care of a baby super hero was too much work for Aunt May. Wrinkles started to appear on her face, and the bags under her eyes were getting darker. Peter was simply too big of a handful for the ageing lady, and so she decided Peter was better off staying with some friends of hers. 

“C'mon Petey, we're gonna go visit some of my best friends, okay?” Aunt May soothed, needing to stay calm for the sake of her nephew. But Peter shook his head and hung onto her neck more tightly, not wanting to go, “It's gonna be okay Peter, they're gonna have lots of toys for you. Does that sound good?” Again, Peter shook his head. But May had one last trick up her sleeve, “Peter, we're gonna go see my friends, and I need you to be a big boy. Can you do that for me?” This seem to have done it, after a moment of hesitation Peter nodded his head. Even at four years old, he was obsessed with growing up, and at any chance he had to be a big boy, he would take it, “That's a good boy.” Aunt May smiled with relief and ruffled Peter's hair, making it stick up at odd angles. Once at the front door, she set the toddler down and helped him get on his yellow rain coat -which was a size or two too big- and matching rubber boots. With his hood up, he was ready to go. 

The car ride there wasn't very long, but seemed to drag on forever to a four year old. Peter was in the back sitting in his car seat, watching the raindrops fall down the window. Every now and then, Peter would jump at the sound of the thunder, but he wasn't scared, he was a big boy. With an abrupt turn and eventually coming to a stop, a huge tower was now in view of Peter's window. Peter never saw this tower before, but it was at least one hundred Peter's high, maybe more! And if Peter could count past 15, he would certainly feel complied to measure. As Aunt May unbuckled him from his seat and took him out of the car, Peter saw that the tower was even higher than he previously thought. And near the top were these huge letters. He was just learning his alphabet now, but Peter would recognize the letters S, A, and K. The other three were a bit blurry in his memory. 

It didn't take long for Aunt May to run inside and get into the elevator. Nobody questioned why she was here, or bothered to stop her. And for a big building such as this one, Peter found it to be surprisingly empty. Why have so much space if no one is gonna use it? 

“Jarvis, take us to the top floor please.” Aunt May spoke and it confused Peter. Who was this Jarvis? That wasn't his name, and no one else was in the elevator. 

“Of course, good to see you again, May.” This time a robotic voice answered and then the elevator started to move. Despite being a big boy, Peter clung to his Auntie a little tighter, ominous voices were a little freaky. 

With a quiet ding, the elevator stopped and the doors parted open. When Aunt May stepped inside the large room, her footsteps echoed and squeaked due to her wet shoes. The room was huge and fairly empty. There was no toys in here, Aunt May had lied. However this time, Peter noted, they weren't alone in the room. Two men were hovering over a table, their backs turn to him and his aunt. But when Aunt May cleared her throat, both of them turned around. Peter's eyes quickly scanned over their appearance, lodging it into his memory. The taller man was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, his hair was blonde and Peter thought his hair cut looked a little weird. However, the shorter man was wearing a darker blue T-shirt and had a funny looking beard. Despite being shorter, he looked scarier than the blonde one. 

“May, you're here!” The taller one spoke first, but they both came walking towards Peter and his Aunt at an alarming rate. Out of fear, Peter stuck out his small hand to try and get them to keep back, but some of his silly string came shooting out and it hit the short man on this glowy thing beneath his shirt. It was right where his heart should be. 

“Ah, the web. I'm guessing that's the squirt?” Glowy man spoke next, and Peter had yet to learn that squirt was gonna be a nickname he would both love and despise. He also took notice how beard man called his string web. So that's what it was, spider web.

“This is him. Peter,” His Aunt finally addressed him now, setting him down on the cold floor, “Go say hi to Steve and Tony.” With a slight nudge, Auntie May urged him forward. Peter looked up at the men, both taller than he expected. The blonde one wore a soft smile, but his arms were huge, perfect to grab and possibly kidnap Peter with. The other man had his arms crossed and his smile wasn't as friendly. Peter decided right now that he didn't like these people. He ran back to the comfort of Aunt May and hung onto her leg, burying his face in the fabric of her pants. 

“Peter, don't be rude.” Aunt May scolded, but he didn't care. Peter wanted to go home. 

“Here, let me try something.” Peter was able to recognize that is was the blonde man who was speaking, he guessed that one must be Steve, “Tony, go get my shield.” He heard footsteps walk off. So the other man must be Tony. A few moments later, Tony came back with Steve's shield, but Peter didn't dare look, “Hey, Peter.” Steve continued, his voice softer and nicer now, “do you know who I am?” Out of curiosity, Peter turned his head ever so slightly to look at Steve. To his surprise, he found the tall man crouching down, he wasn't so scary anymore. Peter shook his head no to Steve's question, “How about now?” Steve asked again, this time holding a shield Peter recognized right in front of him. With a small gasp, Peter realized who Steve was. 

“Captn Amarcia!” Peter was still working in the speaking department, but nonetheless he knew it was Captain America, the hero he saw on the news countless times before. A bit of Peter's fear melted away and his grip loosened on Aunt May's pants.

“Yeah, you wanna hold my shield?” Steve spoke with excitement, baring a friendly smile. Peter didn't hesitate to toddle over there. The red, blue and white shield was about the same size as him, but that didn't stop young Peter from holding it, almost falling over in the process. This earned a big smile from Peter and a laugh from everyone else, “And do you know who this is?” Steve pointed to the man beside him. Peter shook his head shyly from behind the shield, his round eyes just barely visible, “This is Iron Man.” 

At his name, Tony crouched down to Peter's height as the child's eyes widened. IronMan was another superhero Peter always saw on the news, usually fighting beside Captain America. Now the glowy thing in his chest made sense. With a tiny hand, Peter reached out and touched IronMan's arc reactor, something that was sure to fascinate him later on. Though his amazement didn't last long, a sniffle from Aunt May made Peter's attention turn back on her. Peter didn't like when Aunt May cried, it always made him feel sad too. With a drop of his hand and the shield, Peter made his way back to his Auntie who had also crouched down to his height. Her arms were open and Peter immediately took the sign to hug her. 

“What's wrong Auntie May?” Peter asked quietly, on the verge of crying too. 

“Peter, we need to have a little talk okay?” Aunt May pulled him out of the hug, her hands placed gently on his shoulders, “You're gonna be staying with Steve and Tony from now on, alright?” 

Peter stared at his aunt in confusion. He didn't understand why he had to stay here, he didn't want to. He wanted to go back and live with his aunt. 

“You're gonna have lots of fun. Steve and Tony are gonna take good care of you, I promise.” Despite Aunt May saying things that should be happy, she sounded sad, and this made Peter sad. He started to cry as he latched back onto his aunt.

“But I wanna go home with you!” Peter wailed as May wrapped her arms around him. She wished there was a way to make Peter understand why she had to do this. Raising a child was hard enough, but when the child had unnatural abilities, it was beyond human capability. Aunt May knew dangerous organizations would be after Peter, and she knew that she couldn't protect Peter from them. She wasn't a superhero. Peter's safety always came first, even if that meant giving him up to people she knew could protect him. Aunt May would forever be in debt to Steve and Tony. 

“Peter, you can't stay with me. Steve and Tony, they're gonna help you with your superpowers. Doesn't that sound fun? They can be your new daddies.” Peter was far too young to remember his parents deaths, so having new daddies didn't sound so bad. And despite his tears, Peter had to nod. He didn't like lying to Aunt May, and being a superhero did sound pretty fun. 

“W-Will you and Uncle Ben come and visit?” Peter hiccuped, rubbing his wet eyes.

“Of course we will Petey.” Aunt May hugged Peter a little tighter before letting go, “We'll visit so much you'll be sick of us, just as soon as Uncle Ben gets back from his trip.” And with that, Aunt May stood up and nudged Peter towards the two heroes standing before them. Steve stuck out his hand for Peter to take and shyly but surely, Peter walked over and took Steve's hand, “Thank you for doing this.” Aunt May now spoke to Steve and Tony, her eyes red from crying, “I can't tell you how much this means to me.”

“We're always happy to help, especially with you May.” Steve smiled and Tony nodded in agreement.

“I just can't have Peter meeting 'you know who' since 'you know what' his looking for him and his bad record, Peter can't be exposed to that kind of behaviour.” 

Peter looked between his aunt and the two men. Peter knew when Aunt May used the 'you know who' language, she was keeping secrets from him. She used it all the time during Christmas. Saying stuff to Uncle Ben like “Did you get the 'you know what' for 'you know whose gift?” But this time Peter wasn't the 'you know who', in fact, Peter didn't know who she was talking about at all. 

“We understand May, we'll take good care of him.” It was Tony who spoke this time, and May gave a nod of thanks, her emotions getting the better of her. 

“Goodbye Peter, I love you so much.” With a last hug goodbye and quick kiss of the forehead, Aunt May left the Stark tower and headed back home. 

“I love you too.” Peter spoke softly as he watched his Auntie leave, he could feel himself starting to cry again. He wiped his eyes with the palm of one hand, his other still holding onto Steve's. With a quick glance to Tony, Steve picked up the toddler and held him in one arm. A clash of thunder rang from the sky and Peter found himself clinging to Steve. Maybe thunder was scary after all.

“Don't worry little buddy, we're gonna have lots of fun here. Isn't that right Tony?” Steve shot a glare towards his partner, urging him to play along.

“Oh, of course we are! We're gonna be like uh..” Tony stumbled on his words, thinking of something to say, “Like a super family.”

“Imma superhero too?” Peter pointed to himself, looking between the two men.

“Of course you are!” Steve smiled, “You're our little spider man.” He nuzzled Peter's neck, causing the young child to laugh. 

A super family, Peter liked the sound of that. 

~~  
Aunt May pulled up in her driveway, and with the other car there, she could tell Ben was back home. The truth was, there's another reason why Peter had to stay with Steve and Tony. She was asked by S.H.I.E.L.D to take care of another child, quite a few years older than Peter. If May remember correctly, he was about thirteen years old right now, and had already been to a Juvenile Hall once. Some excess information she knew about him was that he's Canadian, his mother died of cancer recently, and his father's a drunk abusive man, hence why he had to be moved. But the thing that spiked May's curiosity and sympathy to say yes in taking care of this delinquent was that someone called Weapon-X was after this child. Even Aunt May herself couldn't fathom what an organization such as Weapon-X would want with a thirteen year old boy. Nonetheless he was wanted, and S.H.E.I.L.D felt it their responsibility to protect the child. But of course, they couldn't be direct about it, therefore had contacted May to take care of him, thinking Weapon-X wouldn't suspect a random civilian. May just prayed that they were right. 

With a creek of the door, May stepped inside her home, slipping off her raincoat and soaked boots. She heard rustling in the kitchen and as she walked in, a child was rummaging through her fridge. It wasn't until he picked out a can of root beer and closed the fridge that he noticed her. 

“Ah!” He exclaimed with delighted surprise, striding over to her, “You must be the lovely May Parker.” He took her hand and kissed it. 

“Oh uh, a pleasure to meet you. You must be...” May's voice trailed off, completely forgetting this child's name. 

“Wade W. Wilson, at your service Ma'am! And the pleasure is all mine.” Wade smiled brightly, his shaggy golden blonde hair hanging just above his eyes. And May could have sworn this kid had the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.

“And how was the trip? I hope Ben didn't give you too much trouble.” It was Ben's job to go pick up Wade from Canada, it was just too bad he didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Peter. 

“Oh let me tell you May-Flower, Ben is a hoot! Though not much of a night owl, he's already in bed!” Wade took her by the hand again and lead her to the living room, already working on a nickname for her, “Though I guess that can't be helped when you're getting old. Though I must say you look lovely for your age May. You must moisturize. Cocoa butter maybe? Anyway, you know how much road kill I saw on the drive through America? 15 pieces! 7 birds, 2 squirrels, a raccoon, and the rest unidentifiable! It's amazing what a car can do.” 

Wade kept talking on and on. And May? She was only partly listening. She couldn't imagine that this young boy, who has been nothing short of a gentlemen so far, was who everyone says he is. A trouble maker. He seemed so sweet. Though she couldn't help but notice Wade had a missing tooth near the back of his mouth, and his left eye seemed like it just healed from being a black eye. May couldn't help but wonder what had happened. 

“...And that's why I wanna join the military!” Wade seemed to have just finished a story, but was quickly moving onto another, “But it would have to be the Canadian military, not that America sucks or anything, but Canada serves poutine. Have you ever had it? It's delicious. Fries and cheese and gravy, I must make it for you some time. Anyway, I'm bushed. I'm gonna hit the hay, g'night May-Flower!” Wade got up and kissed her cheek before skipping down the hall to his room that she could only assume Ben showed him where to go. May touched her cheek where Wade had kissed her. There was no way this boy could be as bad as his record said. She refused to believe it. And hopefully, after a few years, Weapon-X would forget about Wade Wilson and he could go back to living the life that he wanted. May just hoped she could steer him in the right direction. And who knows, maybe one day Wade and Peter would be friends. But May knew that until she was certain Wade wasn't dangerous, she would do everything in her power to make sure that Wade and Peter would never meet.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to communication errors with my fucking older sister who likes to pry and nag, here's the first chapter.

“Don't you think it's time I move out?” Peter brought up this subject for the 50th time this week, this time him and his dads were sitting at the dinner table.

“You're not that old Peter, there's no shame in living with your parents.” Steve was using his gentle but firm tone of voice, much like the one a mother uses when deciding a punishment for a child. Not that Peter considered living with his dads a punishment, but he wasn't sixteen anymore. He had to get out eventually. 

“Pops, I'm 19.” 

“Yeah Steve, Peter's old enough to get his own place. Even if the apartment is only a few blocks away from here.” Tony added in, he was always more open with the idea of Peter moving out, but nonetheless protective of him. Peter gave his dad a nod in thanks. 

“But it's our job to protect him, Tony.” Now Steve was only using his stern voice, glaring across the table at his husband. Peter could sense a quarrel coming on. The two did that a lot, and Peter was always in the middle. It wasn't that their love wasn't strong for each other, usually after some down time for Steve, and a few drinks for Tony, they'd be happy again. Their personalities often contrasted, so their opinions more often than not differed from each other. And their quarrels? Mainly about Peter. Sometimes Peter would feel a pang of guilt for causing so many problems, other times he just found their arguments immature. Just last week they argued what vegetables should be served at dinner that would benefit Peter's health. Honestly Peter got fed up with their babying at times, but at the end of the day he knew they were just trying to protect him. 

“I just think the squirt needs some independence, that's all. He can't live with his dads forever.” Tony explained while munching on his steak, never taking his hard eyes off of Steve. 

“I know that, but moving out is a big step. What if he can't afford an apartment?”

“I'm rich! I can pay for it.”

“That's not very independent, is it Tony?” 

“Hey uh, I could always get a room mate.” Peter added in shyly, trying to help, but as usual he was cast aside.

“This doesn't concern you Squirt.”

“Yeah baby, please stay out of this.”

And that's how it usually went. Steve and Tony would argue about Peter's future, but whenever Peter himself would try to get his opinion out there, he was muted. His dads seemed pretty heated in this specific argument that Peter was able to slip away, not being able to stand his parent's bickering. With a quick trip to his room and a change into his suit, Peter left out a window as Spiderman and swung through New York city. It wasn't until an hour into his patrol until he stopped on a roof to catch his breath. This would be proven to be Peter's first mistake of the night. 

Peter sat down on the edge of the rooftop, his feet just barely hanging above the first window. A cloud of breath followed his sigh, his spandex suit barely kept out the cool autumn air. A low growl came deep withing his stomach, remembering that he barely had two bites of his supper. Great, now he was cold, alone, and hungry. Though he kinda asked for the alone part by sneaking off. Besides, Spiderman didn't have many friends anyway, he was a lone ranger. 

“Sounds like someone's hungry.” The voice from behind him didn't startle Peter, he knew who was coming before they even landed on the roof. If his spidey-sense didn't give it away, than the putrid smell and low voice would have told Peter who it was. Peter let out an even deeper sigh than a few minutes ago. 

“What do you want Deadpool?” Ah Deadpool. Peter worked with the merc a few times in the past, and while proving himself a pretty useful partner, Peter rarely ever enjoyed his presence. His breath always stunk and he doubted that Deadpool ever washed his signature red suit. He never told Tony or Steve about his team ups with Deadpool, or with anyone for that matter. His Spiderman life was his business, and his dads did a pretty good job respecting that. 

“What? I can't just drop by and say hi to the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman?” Deadpool cupped his hands together near his cheek, and Peter swore that there were little pink hearts radiating off of him. Despite being a psycho and a killer, Deadpool had this strange aura of innocence, “Hey, you guys are suppose to back me up. Can you blame me for tracking an ass like that?” Peter rolled his eyes, Deadpool often went on one of his little internal monologues. This wasn't any news to Peter, everyone knew that Deadpool was mentally insane. 

“Ahem.” Spiderman cleared his throat, standing up to seize Deadpool, though his height was no match for the 6'2 man, “Seriously, what do you want Deadpool?” Peter paused for a moment, “Wait, did you say tracking?” 

Deadpool giggled and pulled a map of New York from one of his pouches, unfolding it in the process, “Yes I did baby boy! You're such a good listener. Anyway, I've been keeping track of your locations and the most common place to spot Spiderman, hence all the red circles on the map. Eventually, I just pinpointed this place as 'Spidey's sooky corner.'” 

Spiderman stared at the merc in disbelief, arms crossed over his chest, “Okay, that's creepy.”

“It's my speciality!” Deadpool exclaimed, his mask crinkling to show a wide grin beneath. Peter was not impress, tracking Spiderman was nothing to be proud of, nor was being creepy. But this was Deadpool he was dealing with, so his standards had to be dropped. 

“What do you want with me?” Peter asked for a final time, hoping to get a straight forward answer. 

“I'm glad you asked!” Deadpool's smile never faded as he put away the map and clasped his hands together. Peter was gonna point out that he asked about three times now, but figured that would get him nowhere, “You see Spidey-widey, I'm in the city for a few months and need a place to crash. And since we're best friends and all, I figured I could stay with you.” He didn't even form it into a question. Deadpool never asked if it was okay, he always just assumed things. This kinda pissed Peter off, but his panic won over his anger.

“Wait, you know where I live?” Shit. This was bad. Nobody knew that Spiderman lived with Steve and Tony. All the public knew was that Captain America and IronMan 'adopted' a child a while back ago. Nobody knew that that child was Peter Parker, let alone Spiderman. 

“Oh no no no, I'm not that much of a stalker.” Deadpool clarified, clearly amused by the distressed Spiderman in front of him. Peter didn't share his joy, “I just figured two buds could crash together. Unless you want to be more than just friends.” Deadpool winked and pursed his lips slightly to imitate a kiss. This earned a groan from Peter.

“First off, we're not friends.” Peter started and saw Deadpool's kissy face turn into a pout, “And second, even if I did want to live with you, we couldn't. I'm a superhero, I can't reveal my identity to you. We'd have to wear our costumes all the time around the apartment and there's no way in hell I'm doing that.”

“Not true! You'd just have to keep your mask on, that's it. I'm perfectly fine with nudity.”

“Do you honestly think that comment would help convince me?” Peter raised a brow, earning a shrug from the merc standing in front of him. Peter ran his hand over his masked face, sighing deeply, “Are we done here now? The answer is no.” Peter was about to swing away, getting his web ready, but Deadpool grabbed his wrist. Something about his grip set Peter off, it didn't feel right. It didn't feel like 'never takes anything seriously' Deadpool. It felt desperate. 

“Wait, Spiderman.” He used his proper superhero name, so Deadpool was being serious. Shocker. “Please, I need somewhere to stay.” 

For about the 5th time this evening, Peter sighed, looking over his shoulder at the pleading man in red, “Don't you have anywhere else to stay? A friend's maybe?” 

“Spidey, I consider you my best friend. Doesn't that tell you anything?” Deadpool had a point. If Spiderman was his best friend, then Deadpool was even more lonely than Peter thought, “Besides, it's gonna further the plot.” 

Now Peter fully turned around to face Deadpool again, “What?” 

“You know, the plot of the story?” 

“The hell?”

“Come on, learn how to break the fourth wall once in a while baby boy.” 

“Okay, just, stop talking.” Peter scratched his head, not that it did much due to his mask, “You really have no other place to stay?”

Deadpool shook his head, for once silent.

“Not even like, a warehouse or something?” 

“I do a few cities over. But I have to stay in this one.” Deadpool insisted. 

“Why, exactly?” 

“You'll find that out later in the story.” There he went again, talking about some story they were in. 

Once again, Peter sighed. That's all he seemed to do nowadays. Well that, and have way too much sympathy for people, “Fine.” He gave in, “I do have somewhere you can stay. But it's not at my house.”

With a girlish shriek from Deadpool, he wrapped his arms around Spiderman, causing him to tense up. Peter learnt this the first time they met, Deadpool has no respect for personal boundaries. If it wasn't obvious already, Peter didn't hug back.

“Deadpool, let go of me."

“But I love you!” He squeezed tighter, lifting the smaller Spiderman off his feet. 

“Put me down!” Peter yelled, wiggling in Deadpool's grasp. Despite Peter being inhumanly strong, Deadpool had a very tight grip on him that Peter didn't have the mental energy to break. Luckily his yelling and squirming seemed to have helped for Deadpool put him down, “Sorry Web-head, I'm just an affectionate guy. Now, where is this apartment? Does it have a jacuzzi? Are you rich?” 

Spiderman groaned and pushed Deadpool's hand off of his shoulder that he had slung around him, “No I'm not rich, no it doesn't have a jacuzzi and the apartment's this way.” He shot a web to a building adjacent to theirs and was about to swing off, but a weight on his back stopped him. Deadpool was hanging onto him like a koala, “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Hanging on.” He replied simply, as if there was nothing wrong with this. 

“No offence, but I don't like having your crotch against my back.” Peter paused for a moment, thinking over what he just said, “Actually, take offence to that and get off.” 

Deadpool didn't budge, “But Spidey, I can't swing from webs. I'll never be able to keep up.”

“Oh. Right.” Spiderman felt slightly embarrassed, but quickly shook that feeling away. Deadpool embarrassed himself enough for the both of them. Peter begrudgingly gave in.“Fine, hang on tight.” This earned yet another school girl giggle from the merc. With a last roll of his eyes, Spiderman took off, now with a lot of extra weight on his back.

~~  
“You know, the ride wasn't as smooth as I thought it was going to be.” Deadpool claimed while climbing through the apartment window. It was your typical run-of-the-mill cheap apartment. There was beat up couch in the living room, a box for a TV, a small cramped up kitchen, and a hallway that consisted both of a washroom and bed room. The apartment was fairly empty, but that's just because Peter hasn't moved in yet. Truth be told, he already bought an apartment behind his parent's back. He just hasn't figured out how to tell them yet. But since Deadpool was gonna be staying here until he got an apartment of his own, Peter guessed he's still gonna be living with his dads for quite some time. 

“Sorry, it was hard to concentrate when I had a 200 pound man on my back and screaming in my ear. Yes, I knew there were buildings in front of us, that's where I was aiming!” If Peter had one thing over Deadpool, it would be his sarcasm. While the merc had a rather sarcastic, and very twisted, sense of humour, Peter expressed anger using sarcasm. 

“Excuse me, I'm 210 pounds thank you.” Deadpool corrected while taking a seat to lounge on the couch. His spine must be in horrible shape, “Unless you're going by Ryan Reynolds weight, then I'm around like, 185.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Peter questioned, still standing by the window. There was no way he was gonna take the chance and sit beside Deadpool. 

“Haven't you seen my movie?” 

“You were in a movie?” 

“Are you confused? You seemed confused. Maybe I'm breaking the forth wall too much this chapter.” To be honest Peter didn't know if Deadpool was talking to him, having one of his inner monologues, or talking to some other unidentified source. And frankly Peter didn't care, he just wanted to get out and go home. His real home, “Are you just gonna stand there sweetums, or you gonna take a seat next to me?” Deadpool drew Peter's attention back. Sweetums? That was a new one.

“Uh, no. I'm going home. And don't call me that.” Peter wanted to slap himself after that one. First he revealed where he was going to Deadpool, who has been stalking him for the past week. And second, he reacted to the new nickname. Now the merc would just continue on using it. 

“Aww, don't leave me!” Deadpool leaped from the couch and was immediately on his knees in front of Peter, hugging his waist, “You know, I don't beg for just anyone.” 

“Get off!” Peter cried, annoyed. He pried Deadpool's arms off of him and opened the window, crouching on the windowsill, “I'll be back tomorrow with food for the fridge. Until then, improvise.”

“What?! No food! Noooooooooo!”

Spiderman took off. He was in no mood for Deadpool's little dramatic scene. There was no need to worry, the merc would probably order something in then kill the delivery guy cause he didn't have any money. Peter would have felt guilty for assuming that with anyone else, but he knew Deadpool, and that's a kind of thing he'd probably do. Peter wouldn't be surprised to see a dead body there tomorrow when he went back. He'll have to lay down the rules next time. 

As he swung back to the Stark tower, he came in the same window that he left out of. This was Peter's third mistake of the night. Or maybe the forth. Letting Deadpool live in his to-be apartment might have been a mistake. Point is, when Peter climbed through the window, not only were his dads there, but the entire Avengers team. And all their eyes were focused on him. 

“Oh uh, hey guys.” Peter smiled nervously beneath his mask, pausing midway through the window. He only had one thought in his head. Shit.

“Hey indeed.” Tony was the first to speak, he was using his dad voice. Peter hated his dad voice. Without even saying the words, Peter knew they wanted an explanation. Now fully emerged into the living room, Peter scratched the back on his neck.

“Right. So um-” 

“The mask, Peter. Take off the mask.” Tony interrupted him. Without hesitation, Peter did as he was told. Despite being 19, he was still treated like a child sometimes. Now with his mask in hand and hair a mess, Peter looked at his parents with guilty innocence. Praying that one of his cute grins would work on them as he tried his best to ignore the rest of the Avengers.

“I was just out doing my Spiderman duties.” It was the best explanation Peter could come up with. And it wasn't entirely false. He just wanted to get away from his fighting parents, so he went out as Spiderman. However, there was no way in hell Peter would tell them about Deadpool. To be honest though, Peter did feel a little guilty for keeping secrets from Steve and Tony. 

“Why didn't you tell us you were leaving? Do you know how worried we were?” This time Steve spoke, which actually surprised Peter because usually Tony does all the scolding. 

“Well in my defense, you two were fighting and-” Peter tried to explain, but once again got cut off by his dad.

“Don't pin this on us Peter. You were irresponsible by not telling us that you were suddenly gonna disappear. You know how Steve worries.”

“I know but, you guys wouldn't let me get a word in at the table.” Peter couldn't believe he was actually sticking up for himself to his parents. Maybe Deadpool's bad influence has already rubbed off on him.

“That's no excuse for running off!” Now Tony was yelling and Peter flinched. He hated yelling. 

“Tony,” This time Clint cut in. Peter could usually count on Uncle Clint to stick up for him, “Cut the kid some slack. So he snuck out one time, big deal. Peter's usually a good kid.” While being thankful that someone was on his side, Peter held himself back from grimacing. He hated being called 'kid'. It felt as if he wasn't being taken seriously. 

“Indeed. It's not like the Spider child got injured.” Thor, while his English being mainly fluent, also stuck up for Peter. Now he was really grateful his uncles were here. Though Bruce has yet to say anything, and Natasha usually doesn't anyway. 

Tony ran his hand over his face, scratching his beard in the process, “Just, go to your room Peter.” 

“Dad, don't you think I'm a little old for that?” 

“Now, Peter.” 

He couldn't believe this, he was actually getting sent to his room. He wasn't 10 anymore. He didn't need to go on a 'time out'. Sometimes his parents couldn't accept that Peter was growing up, just as Peter couldn't see that he is still young. Steve and Tony are eager for Peter to keep his innocence, while Peter is eager to grow up. To be taken seriously. On his walk to his room, Peter whispered beneath his breath.

“This wouldn't have happened if I was an Avenger.” It was a petty argument, Peter knew that. But he always brought it up when he was angry. And in a sense, it was true. If he was an Avenger he wouldn't have snuck off tonight. He wouldn't have met Deadpool. He wouldn't have given him his apartment. He would have been apart of that meeting, just like everyone else. That's all Peter wanted. Just to be considered part of the gang. Despite his huge age difference between everyone, Peter still had the skill. It was just because everyone still saw him as a child, and that pissed Peter off more than anything. The only reason why they saw him as a child is because they raised him. And by they, he means everyone. It was mainly Steve and Tony who raised him, but all the Avengers were a part of his childhood. Whenever Peter wanted to do something fun, it was Clint who was there. Uncle Clint was 'the cool uncle' and secretly Peter's favourite. Bruce was Peter's smart uncle, and one he bonded with the most sometimes. Granted, Tony did know about science and was a genius, but there was just something about Bruce's intelligence that drew Peter to him. And, they said when Peter reached 20, he could start an apprenticeship as his student. Peter had always wanted to be a scientist, not that he didn't enjoy the photography job he had now. Uncle Thor was a bit like the crazy uncle. He didn't quite understand everything about earth yet, but he was funny to watch. He was the one who helped Peter with a lot of his physical training, not that he had a big build now. But there was no doubt Peter did have some muscle. And lastly there was Natasha. With all honesty, Peter was scared of Natasha when he was little, and still a bit scared of her now. But she always understood Peter in a way none of the other Avengers did. She wasn't very motherly, and she was kinda reserved, but when Peter had a problem, she always seemed to know what to do. Much like his Aunt May, whom of which still comes by once in a while. She stopped for a bit once Uncle Ben died. But Peter knew Aunt May was strong, she dealt with the grief just fine.

When Peter got to his room, he quietly closed the door behind him, containing all his anger for when he ripped off his Spiderman suit. He resisted the urge to thrash around to get his anger out, but that would have looked pretty ridiculous in just his boxers. Instead, Peter flopped down on his bed, letting his fluffy sheets engulf him into a sea of warmth. Pulling up his laptop, Peter got comfortable in his bed and opened up his computer. He was gonna do a little research. 

“Alright, Deadpool” Peter whispered to himself as he googled the mercenary, “Lets see who you are.”

Peter knew very little about Deadpool, just a few basic things. He knew he killed people for a living. He knew that he was insane. He knew that he had this amazing healing factor. And Peter has heard rumours about Deadpool having scars, but he didn't know how true that was or to what extent his scars were. And normally Peter wasn't the kind of person to pry, but for some reason he felt like he had to this time. If Deadpool was gonna live in an apartment Peter was renting out, he needed to know as much information about the merc as possible. And googling him was much more appealing than actually talking to him. 

Through his searching, Peter was surprised he actually found some information on Deadpool. He found on that he was Canadian, and in the military. Though he couldn't find how old Deadpool was, Peter was surprised that he found a name. While feeling a little guilty about discovering Deadpool's secret identity, Peter couldn't resist reading the name. 

“Wade Wilson.” The name glided off his tongue. It was an alliteration just like his own. Peter Parker. Wade Wilson. “Huh. Wade Wilson?” Peter said it again, this time questioning. 

Nope, he didn't recognize the name.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {Yellow box}  
> [White box]  
> [{When they talk together}]  
> Hi Walldo!!!!  
> End of note.

{Do you think he's coming?} 

“Of course he's coming, he said he would bring us food.” 

[He could have been lying, you know he hates us.] 

“He loves us.”

{No, you love him.}

[That's true.]

“Wow, way to single me out guys.” 

“Do you always talk to yourself like this?” Spiderman's voice came from behind Deadpool, and when he turned around, the superhero was perched on his window. Deadpool gasped, bring his hands up to his masked face in excitement. 

“Spidey! You're here! And yes, I do always talk to the Me's like that.” 

{The Me's?}

[He's talking about us. Despite the awful grammar of saying Me is. And the fact that Me's is not a word.]

{To be fair, Mes looks weird...and French. The author had no choice.}

[True.]

Deadpool waved his thoughts away and focused back on his baby boy, who was standing by the window looking a bit weirded out by the merc. Which Deadpool couldn't blame him for, he was pretty weird. 

“So, what brings you to my lovely home?” Deadpool smiled and sat on the couch, patting the seat beside him in hopes Spiderman would sit down this time.

“You know exactly why I'm here, and it's technically my home. I pay the rent.” Spiderman replied flatly, holding up the plastic bag in his hand.

[The sass on him his amazing]

{So is his suit. It's tight. Very nice.}

[Deadpool likey]

{Deadpool likey very much.}

“I brought you the food I promised. Is the fridge working?” 

[I wonder if he wears underwear beneath his suit.]

{I hope not. I don't see a panty line}

“Deadpool!” 

“Huh? Oh sorry right. The fridge is working.” Deadpool took the bags from Spiderman and put whatever food he brought in the fridge. It mainly consisted of frozen dinners, bread, cans of juice, peanut butter, things like that. Besides what Spiderman bought, Deadpool pulled out a box of leftover pizza from the fridge, “You want some pizza?”

Deadpool saw the small wave of shock and confusion wash over the young hero's body. His reactions were quite amusing, “Where did you get that? Oh god where's the body?”

“Body?” This time Deadpool was confused, “Who said anything about a body?”

“You mean...you didn't kill the pizza man?” 

Deadpool gasped, this time not in a surprised way. He was actually a little offended, “Why would I kill a god? Pizza men, or women, are the most beautiful people on the planet!”

{Besides Spiderman of course.}

[Yes, they're the second most beautiful people on the planet.]

Spiderman tilted his head, “Then, how did you pay for it?”

“Uh, with money?” This was amazing, Spiderman was actually confusing Deadpool. This never happened. Deadpool was suppose to be the confusing one. It was his thing! He never made sense. And he didn't appreciate his thing being stolen by his very own sweetums. 

“I thought you were broke.” 

“Well, I mean, I have some money!” 

{That's a lie}

[Yeah, you have lots of money. You're just pretending to be broke so Spiderman will let you stay here.]

“Then why don't you get your own apartment?” Spiderman crossed his arms over his chest. Deadpool could see that he clearly wasn't happy with him. Which, again, was understandable. The fact that he was even tolerating Deadpool was pretty astonishing. 

“Well, because, I don't have that much money. I just got enough for a pizza once in a while. Do you want any or not?” 

“No, I gotta go anyway.” Spiderman turned around and was about to go out the window. 

{Kill.}

[Just stop him from leaving]

{No wait, go with him!}

In an instant, Deadpool was by Spiderman's side, his arms placed behind his back in the classic 'I'm an innocent child and you should let me in on whatever you're doing' kind of pose.

[I don't think that's a pose]

{Sure it is. You're just no fun.}

“Where ya going~?” If Deadpool wasn't wearing his mask, Spiderman would have seen the cheekiest grin ever.

“Spiderman stuff.” Deadpool frowned. Spiderman's replies were always so short. 

[He doesn't like us]

{He's just shy!}

“Can I come?” It was a long shot, but Wade decided to try anyway. He just didn't want to be left alone. And if there was one thing he was good at, it was being persistent. 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

“No. I'm gonna leave now. Goodbye Deadpool.” 

{Aww his goodbyes are so awkward and blunt}

[Adorable.]  
Wade grabbed onto Peter's waist before he left out the window, falling onto his knees. Turns out for Spiderman, Deadpool begs a lot. Which Wade had absolutely no problem with, if Spiderman was into that kind of thing. 

Spiderman groaned, clearly annoyed but that didn't bother Deadpool, “Let me go.” 

“Just let me go with you. I'm a great partner in crime!”

[No you're not.]

{You don't even have any friends.}

“Please Spidey!” 

Now Spiderman was getting mad, Deadpool could tell. He probably messed up some of his plans or something. But the whole point to coming to New York was to find Spiderman, not that he'd ever tell his baby boy that. It would be too weird and would probably scare him off. In fact, Deadpool was surprised Spiderman even came back to give him food. It's not like he could die from starvation or anything. But that last plea seemed to set Spidey off the edge, he started to yell.

“I told you that you can't come! Now get off of me Wade!” Spiderman froze. Deadpool froze. Then he slowly got on his feet. His grip on Spiderman's waist tightened as he pulled the young hero closer to him. Deadpool had to look down due to their height difference, but that just made him all the more intimidating. 

“How do you know my name?” Deadpool was even surprised about how deep and threatening his voice got. And from the kid's point of view? Well he would have seen a 6”2 man with squinted white eyes and katanas strapped to his back looking down on him. If it was roles reversed, Deadpool would have shit his pants. 

“Um, I, uh,” Spiderman was stuttering. It was super adorable, but not the time to think about it,“Google?” 

Deadpool's grip immediately dropped and with a delighted gasp, he brought his hands to his cheeks, “You googled me?” 

{He does love us!} 

“Well, I mean, yeah. I did. Sorry.” Spiderman scuffed his foot on the floor, his shoulders hunched. 

{Cute! Cute! Cute!}

[The cuteness siren is going off. We gotta get outta here before we jump him.]

Deadpool waved his thought boxes away, still over joyed at the thought of Spiderman googling him. It was a small victory, but a big sign that their friendship was growing. Well, at least to Deadpool it was.

“Oh Spidey you are too cute!” Wade reached out and brought Spiderman into a tight hug, pressing the younger man against his chest. He felt Spidey tense up in his arms, “Not a hugger huh?”  
“No, not at all.” Spidey's voice was muffled and Wade took that as a sign to let go. He wouldn't want his sweetums to feel uncomfortable around him. Well, not any more uncomfortable than he already was. So with an abrupt stop of the hug, Wade put his hands on his hips.

“Alright, so what's your name?”

“Excuse me?” Spiderman looked up at Deadpool while brushing himself off.

“What is your name?” Deadpool asked again, making sure to really pronounce the 'm' in name just for emphasis. But Spidey didn't look too amused. Wade could tell by his crossed arms, raised brow, and how all his weight was on one leg.

“Why on earth would I tell you my name?”

“Because you googled mine without even asking me first. I should know yours.” Wade grinned, knowing his next line would for sure convince Spiderman. That kid was all about morals and shit like that, “It's only fair.” Just like his prediction, Spiderman's body language flopped as he let out a sigh.

[Good sign.]

{We're totally gonna find out who Spiderman is!}

“I guess you're right.” While his arms were still crossed, Spiderman's shoulders drooped in defeat, “My name is Peter.” 

{Cutest. Name. Ever!}

[Hug him. Squish him. Kill him then turn him into a teddy bear.]

{Aren't you suppose to be the sensible one?}

[Since when is Deadpool ever sensible?]

{Good point, carry on with the proper dialogue.}

“It's nice to meet you Peter.” At Wade's words, Spiderman looked up. Neither of them were expecting that answer. To save his reputation, Deadpool added a quick comment, “Now that we're on a first name basis,” Deadpool wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders, “When can we move to second base?” 

“Never!” 

“Well you don't have to look so appalled. I'd go to second base with you any day. And third base. When is that gonna happen?” 

{I'd like to see that happen.}

[Maybe later in the story, if the author's brave enough.]

 

“Yeah, I'd like to see that too.” Deadpool added, not realizing he was speaking out loud. And confusing a very flustered Spiderman.

“Who are you- ugh, nevermind. Point is, we are not moving to any bases. Ever. There is no second base between us, there is no third base, and there's not gonna be a forth base either!”

“I never said anything about a forth base.”

“I don't care! Just get it through your head that nothing is going to happen between us!”

{Seems fake.}

[Definitely a lie.]

“Can we still be friends?” Wade's comment seemed to shut Peter up. His yelling stopped and he looked a little taken aback. Wade hoped it wasn't because that he was so disgusted about the thought of being friends with Deadpool. Wade knew that he was an ass, and overly sarcastic, and bitter when upset, and mentally insane, these weren't exactly friend-like qualities. Or even acquaintances qualities. He just wanted a friend, especially a superhero friend. And out of all the heroes in New York City, Spiderman was the most likely to take pity on him and become friends. Or at least, the closest thing to friends that they could get. 

“Um...yeah.” Spiderman scratched his head and Deadpool grinned, both at his answer and at his cuteness, “We can be friends.” 

“Yay!” Before Deadpool could get his arms around Spidey for the 50th time tonight, Peter stopped him.

“But, we have to lay down some rules first.” 

“Sure! I'm great at following rules!” Deadpool sat down at Spiderman's feet, crossing his legs and looking up at the hero expectantly.

[That rule thing was a lie.]

{You just want Spiderman to like you.} 

A little weirded out by Deadpool, Spiderman continued on anyway, “Okay, first rule. No killing.”

“Veto.” 

“What?”

“I don't like that rule” Wade explained, “I veto it.”

“Wha- you- you can't just veto my rules! If you wanna be friends, and if you wanna live here, you follow me and my rules. Got it?” 

With a slouch, Deadpool grumbled, “Fine.”

“Second rule is: Don't touch me so much. No hugging, no nudging, and no trying to kiss me.”

At this rule, Wade just had to protest, “Aww c'mon! It's in my nature to hug you! And I haven't tried to kiss you yet. That's like asking me not to be myself. Friends are suppose to be themselves around other friends.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his brow in frustration, “Fine. Just tone it down a little bit. Third rule is not to reveal our secret identities to anyone.” 

With his hand over his heart and the other raised in the air Deadpool said, “Scout's Honour.” 

[You were never a boy scout.]

“It would go against the hero bro-code. Never reveal a fellow Hero's name, face, or any other secret they may posses.” Deadpool chanted as if he recited this code so many times before. Which he hadn't. There wasn't any need to. You'd have to be a fool to trust him. 

“Right...scout's honour.” Peter spoke with that disbelieving tone in his voice, a very common tone to use around Deadpool, “Lastly, and I can't believe I'm saying this, if you wanna come on patrol with me you have to do everything I say.” 

With a gasp, Wade was immediately to his feet, “You mean it?!” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to hug his new friend. 

[Wow, that is surprising] 

{He loves~ us!}

“Yeah, I mean it. But don't make me regret it.” Spiderman warned, pointing a very accusing finger at Wade. 

“You won't regret a thing Petey-Pie!”

“Too late.”

[Ouch.]

{That hurt.}

“It's just his personality.” This time Spiderman had no reaction, Wade could only assume that it was because Peter already got use to him talking to himself. His thought boxes would be very delighted to hear that.

{I just wish Sweetums could hear us.}

[Then we'd feel included.]

“Hey, only I can call him sweetums. Back off.” Wade threatened, well, himself. 

“Um, so, are you coming tonight or not?” Peter asked, already perched on the windowsill.

[He moves fast.]

{I wonder if he's like that in bed.}

“Peter, that's such a personal question.” Wade teased, his legs pressed together and his shoulder slightly turned away from Spiderman. He looked like a woman with trying to cover up her tits after she realized there was too much showing, “I don't know if I'll be cumming, it depends if I touch myself tonight.” Beneath his mask, Wade was fluttering his lashes just for that extra effect, not that Peter could see him though.

It took a moment for Peter to catch on, but once he did his mask crinkled in a fashion to reveal a disgusted look, and a slightly pissed off one at that, “That's not what I meant!” 

“You're so cute when you're embarrassed.” 

With a frustrated yell, Peter resembled a 16 year old. And that raised the question, how old was this kid? Wade had no clue, but he could guess anywhere from 15 to 24. It's kinda a big range, but the important part was that Deadpool knew he was rather young. If his slender frame and short height didn't give it away, it was definitely his voice. Peter didn't raise his voice often, other than to yell at Wade, and spoke kinda like Andrew Garfield. 

{I wonder if he looks like him too.}

[Fingers crossed.]

“I don't care anymore! Tag along if you want to. If you do, just try to keep up.” On that note, Spiderman jumped out the window, flinging his webs to swing across the city.

{Wait, he doesn’t care anymore. That means he did care once!} 

“Yes! Spidey cares about us!” 

[Um, you're letting him get away.] 

“Huh? Oh fuck. Darling! Wait for me!” And with that, Deadpool jumped out the window, trying his best to catch up with Spiderman.


	4. Chapter 3

It took Deadpool ten minutes after Peter to get to their location. And Peter was right there in the doorway waiting for him, tapping his foot impatiently.

“What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” Deadpool panted, “It's hard to keep up with someone who can practically fly.”

Peter rolled his eyes. He couldn't fly, he just swung from place to place. He didn't have the energy to correct Wade, so he let it slide. As he walked into the stout building, Peter gestured for Deadpool to follow, which he gladly did as he skipped in behind Peter. The room was dark and very waiting room like. When they entered, the first thing that could bee seen was a small receptionist area over to the right, complete with marble counters and a low desk. Next to the receptionist desk was a door leading down a long hallway. The rest of the room consisted of chairs and a tacky rug in the centre. 

“What is this place?” Deadpool whispered. He was so close to Spiderman that Peter could feel his breaths on the back of his neck. Peter rolled his shoulders in discomfort, he didn't have the guts to tell Deadpool to back the fuck off. There was more important things to worry about.

“It's a research lab.” Peter answered abruptly, looking around the dark office.

“Seems more like a creepy dentist office to me.” Deadpool made yet another comment. He literally never shuts up, and Peter knew that before hand, so why did he invite Deadpool along? He had no clue, “What kind of research?”

“Medical testing.” Once Peter circled the room, he relaxed a little bit, “Alright. My spidey-sense didn't go off. I think it's safe.”

“What kind of medical testing?” Deadpool asked, inspecting the seating area aimlessly. Probably picking lint off the seats.

“Like, drug testing.” Peter tried to keep the annoyance out of his tone, “Whenever someone invents a new drug, people volunteer to try it out once proven safe. Now come on, there's another hall to be inspected. 

“Wait, so people volunteer to literally get tested on?” Deadpool never seemed to run out of questions, but this one seemed different. Usually there was either amusement or mild curiosity in his voice, but this time there was disgust. That wasn't like Wade at all, “Who would subject themselves to that?”

“Well, the drugs are usually tested on animals first. Then once they're safe, the new test subjects are people.” Spiderman explained, though still puzzled on two things. Why did Deadpool seem so repulsed about drug testing? And why did Peter care?

“Could you not use that language?”

“What language?” Peter looked over his shoulder. Deadpool was right behind him, and whatever expression was visible behind his mask was flat and unreadable. 

“Test subjects. It sounds like they're forced to get drugged or something.” Now Deadpool was getting upset. Peter could tell by when he gulped at the words test subjects, and his voice cracked at 'forced.' Peter's curiosity was definitely through the roof now, but he wasn't sure if it was safe to pry.

“They get paid you know. They're 100% volunteers.” He tried his best to comfort Wade. That's what friends are suppose to do right? It seemed to have worked, Deadpool was back to shouting.

“What!? They get paid!? No fair!” 

“How is that not fair?” 

Deadpool fell silent. Shit. Did Peter push too far? Maybe Wade use to be a drug addict or something. Maybe he use to sell drugs. Maybe he was hurt by drug dealers. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring Deadpool along on this mission. Peter should have background checked or something. Asked for a backstory. Or was that too personal? Maybe Peter was just over thinking this all.

“Uhh, Spidey?” Deadpool tapped his shoulder and Peter turned around. He must of spaced out.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Why exactly are we here?” 

Peter blinked, had he not already explained it? It must of slipped his mind.

“Oh, well this lab is suppose to be abandoned. But there's been activity surrounding this area. Some people even report that they see guys go in and out of here sometimes. I figured it's best to investigate before anything serious happens. Why do you ask?”

“Look.” Deadpool grabbed Peters head and turned it. Peter was now looking through the window of a door. Inside, for what Peter could see, were cages upon cages on the wall. Each cage filled with a different animal, live ones at that, “Well, I'd definitely say someone has been here.” 

Peter took Deadpool's hand off his head and took a few steps towards the door, pressing his hands up against the glass. “Wow...” He said breathlessly and reached for the handle. Locked, “Dammit.”

“Alright alright, step aside binky. Now it's my turn to show off.” Deadpool spoke and pushed Peter out of the way. With mild -and slightly annoyed- curiosity, Peter watched Deadpool kneel down and start to pick the lock.

“Wade, be careful.”

“Aww, is my baby boy worried about me? Don't worry, I picked a bunch of locks in my days. There's no trouble to it. No danger what's so ever.”

“No.” Peter spoke flatly, “I meant watch out for alarms and stuff. We don't know if there's any traps in here or not.”

“Relax Peter-pot, I got it under control. There's no trap connected to this lock.”

“How can you be so sure?” Peter asked, trying to sneak a peak over Deadpool's shoulder. So far this evening Peter learned that Wade could be serious at times, and apparently could pick locks. He couldn't help but wonder what else his supposedly new found friend was hiding up his sleeves.

“Because, there's no string.” Deadpool let out a grunt of effort before sitting back on his heels. A soft ding echoed through the empty hall and the door unlocked.

“Uh, string? What string?” Peter wondered as they made their way into the room. All the animals within the cages appeared to be sleeping, or knock out with some serious drugs. Spiderman tried not to cringe.

“It was an automatic lock, right?” Deadpool began his explanation while the two of them investigated the room, “Well besides all the wires and shit, when there's an alarm within the lock, there's usually a string so when an amateur tries to pick it, the string vibrates and sets off an alarm.” 

Peter turned to stare at the mercenary who was inspecting the far corner of the room, “That sounds suspiciously made up.” 

This earned a soft chuckle from Deadpool, “You catch on quick baby boy. I did make it up. I just told you that shit so you wouldn't freak out, worrying about some security system.” 

Security system. Oh no. “Shit, Deadpool! What if there's security cameras!?” Peter gripped his head, wishing he could claw at his hair as he does when he's nervous. He began to pace, and pace, and pace. Shit. He was panicking. How did security cameras slip his mind!?

Deadpool strode over to him and placed his hands on Peter's shoulders. Now he was staring at the face of the masked mercenary, and Wade was staring right back at him. Or at least, the white eyes of his mask were, “Relax Petey, there are no cameras.” 

“How can you be so sure?”

“What? Do you think I was just standing in the corner of the room for nothing? I was checking for cameras. And there are none, so you can calm down now.” 

With a deep breath, Spiderman let out a shaky sigh and Deadpool took his hands off his shoulders, “Right. Uh, thanks Wade.” 

“Anytime sweetums.” And with that Wade gave Peter a kiss on the forehead. Normally Peter would have flipped, but both their masks were on and Wade just saved Peter from freaking out. So he shrugged it off for the moment.

“Now, back to business.” Peter announced and started searching around the lab.

“What are we looking for?” Deadpool asked, still standing in the middle.

“Anything really. Clues to who might be running this show, clues to what exactly they're trying to do. Anything like that. Just a start to...something.” Spiderman explained and walked over to a floor-to-ceiling cabinet next to a crappy fold out table while Deadpool headed for the wall of sleeping animals. 

On the table that Peter was inspecting was a bunch of cheap lab equipment. A flask or two here, some beakers over there, a microscope in the middle, stuff like that. People were clearly here within the past couple of days from the looks of it. The dust on the table and the equipment didn't have to time to settle and not all of the equipment was clean either. Little drops of what seemed to be an opaque orange liquid remained on one of the petri dishes. 

“Hmm,” Spiderman hummed to himself and moved onto the cabinet. Surprisingly, the door wasn't locked. Inside were rows upon rows of racks that held small test tubes. Each tube was filled with a now thicker looking orange liquid with red spots floating within it. The only other thing in this cabinet was on the bottom shelf where extra lab equipment was kept and about two dozen clean needles. 

“Hey Spidey, I don't think these animals are sleeping. They're definitely knocked out. Drugs maybe?” Deadpool commented and from the corner of his eye, Peter could see Wade poking at one of the test rabbits. Carefully, Peter picked up one of the test tubes and held it up to his face. He slowly turned around to show his partner in crime his discovery. 

“Hey Deadpool, you think this could be that drug?” Peter could expect a lot of reactions from Wade, more often than not they were predictable. Peter figured he'd either be curious and come rushing to his side, demanding to hold the mysterious drug -or he would have cracked some joke. But how Deadpool really reacted came as a shock to Peter. The normally free flowing merc actually tensed up, his defensive aura from before returned. But then there was something else to him. Peter could have sworn he actually sensed fear coming off of Deadpool. But that was impossible, Wade wasn't scared of anything, right?

“Peter...” Wade already sounded breathless despite not moving a muscle, “Put that down.” His tone was unnaturally calm, yet somehow still held so much panic. 

“Why? Do you know something about the drug?” As Peter took a few steps towards Wade, Wade scrambled backwards. With lightning quick reflexes, Deadpool pulled a gun and pointed it not directly at Peter, but at his hand that was holding the vile. 

“Don't fucking come near me with that thing! I'll fucking shoot!” Deadpool shouted, his hands visibly shaking. Deadpool's afraid even with a gun in his hands? Now Peter knew this was serious. He raised his hands up in defeat and started taking slow steps backwards towards the cabinet.

“Okay...it's okay. See? I'm putting the test tube back.” Peter spoke in the calmest tone he could manage as his back hit the cabinet. The test tubes rattled and clinked together, but none fell over. With a steady hand, Peter placed the vile back into its holder. He heard a sigh of relief from Deadpool and just as Peter was about to close the cabinet door, a loud bang came from behind him. His spidey-sense went off just as the gunshot did and that caused Peter to practically jump and bang into the cabinet. With a violent shake, test tube racks started to fall over and the test tubes smashed on the ground. A few from shelves way above Peter's height fell and broke on his head. 

“Peter!” That was Wade's voice, Peter could tell that much. But with all the panic running through his system, his spidey-sense going off like crazy, and a dozen test tubes falling onto his head within seconds, confusion was swarming his mind. But as soon as it seemed he was caught in the falling mess of viles, he was pulled out of it by Deadpool. Peter's back hit Deadpool's chest as Wade's other hand pulled off his Spiderman mask. Wade threw it across the room and it landed with a soggy flop. Both men were frozen in time, panting. 

“Umm..” Peter was the first to speak, “Wade?” There came no answer from Deadpool. He was still holding Peter tightly against his chest with one arm, and the other remained frozen in the position of throwing his mask, “Wade?” Peter tried again, a bit louder this time. 

“Huh?” Deadpool turned his attention to Peter and with a moment's hesitation, he let Spiderman go. “Oh Sorry.” 

“No uh, thank you. For...you know. Doing that.” Peter mumbled awkwardly, never really the best at thanking people. He expected some wise ass joke or at least a comment to come from Deadpool, but the man just stared at him in silence, “What? Do I have something on my...” Peter's voice trailed off. Shit. His face! His mask! Peter covered as much of his face as he could with his hands, “Shit! Fuck!” Peter wasn't one to swear that much, but just tonight alone he revealed his name to Deadpool and now his face. But when Peter looked up at Deadpool again, the merc was covering his eyes. 

“Sorry Petey! I wasn't thinking, not that I ever really think in the first place.” Slowly Peter could tell that the traditional Deadpool was coming back. His jokes and comments and flirtations, they would all soon return. As would Peter's annoyance. 

With a soft sigh, Peter dropped his hands, “It's okay Deadpool, you can look.” There really wasn't anything Peter could do other than trust Deadpool not to reveal him to anyone. It's not like he could put his mask back on, it was covered in chemicals. And in reality, Peter was thankful for what Deadpool did. If it not been for him, Peter probably wouldn't have ripped off his mask fast enough. His face could have been melting off right about now. Deadpool slowly took his hands down from his face, as if he still wasn't sure he should.

“Hey! You do look like Andrew Garfield!”

Peter felt heat rush to his cheeks as it so often did, only this time his face was fully uncovered and he could no longer hide when he blushed. 

“But don't worry baby boy, you're much cuter.” 

“Uhh, thanks.” The awkwardness in his voice was clear, and that just made him blush more. How is one suppose to react when they get complimented? Peter was never able to tell, nor did he know if there was even an answer. He scratched the back of his neck, the silence droning on and becoming just as awkward as Spiderman himself. Peter had to think of something quick, for once Deadpool wasn't talking and it was up to Peter to break the ice. Quicker than it probably felt, Peter thought of something to say, “Hey Deadpool?”

“Yes darling?” 

“What was that loud bang anyway? I know you didn't shoot me.”

“Oh, I shot my foot.” Wade answered matter-o-factly. With a slight look of disbelief, Peter dared to glance down and did in fact see blood seeping from Wade's foot. A bullet wound. With unexplained anger, Peter started to yell. 

“What the hell did you do that for?!”

“To punish myself for almost shooting my Spidey.” 

Peter stared at Deadpool, his mind blanking on anything to say. So he shot himself because he almost shot Peter? To Peter's scientific mind, or rather, to any mind at all, that action held no logic. In fear for the silence, Spiderman blurted out the first thing he could think of. 

“You didn't have to do that for me. And I'm not your Spidey!”

Deadpool blinked blankly, as if he couldn't understand the reason as to not shoot himself. With a tilted head, he asked, “How would you like me to repay you then?” 

Normally, Peter would have insisted that he didn't have to do anything. But he knew Deadpool wouldn't take no for an answer. He was that kind of person. For a moment or two, Peter had to think. It could just be something small. Insignificant at best. With that in mind, he said, “You have to take off your mask.” Peter risked a small smirk, “Since you saw my face, I should see yours. After all, it's only fair.” 

For a split second Peter could have sworn that he saw Deadpool tense up, which was not what he wanted. He wanted to joke around with Wade, to loosen him up again. As much as he hated to admit it, serious Deadpool wasn't as appealing as 'never takes anything seriously' Deadpool. He almost missed all the unnecessary comments and breaking some apparent forth wall. But not a moment passed before Wade let out a playful gasp.

“How dare you use my own words against me!” Deadpool immediately caught on to what Peter was playing at. Earlier this evening they revealed their names to each other because Deadpool claimed it was unfair that Peter knew his name, but not vise-versa. Now it was Peter's turn. And truth be told, he wouldn't mind knowing what Deadpool looked like. 

“Come on now, off it goes.” Peter smiled, crossing his arms. He felt a strange sense of power at this moment. Almost as if he was being let in on a huge secret, and in a way he was. It was sort of exhilarating.

Wade was silent for a moment, it could only be assumed that he was having one of his internal monologues. But then a smirk formed beneath the merc's mask, “Alright. I'll take it off. If you can catch me first.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side slightly, “Catch you? Where are you gonna run to? There's one exit to this room and I'm closest to it.” Now Peter was full fledged smiling, both in content and in victory. There was no way Deadpool was gonna escape him. 

Wade shrugged, “I'm gonna improvise.” Then he proceeded to do the cabbage-patch dance, singing 'Can't Touch This.' With an amused giggle, Peter watched for a few seconds. When not being obnoxious or widely inappropriate, Deadpool was kind of entertaining. Though with a shot of his web, he pulled Wade over to him, planning to take his mask in the process. However, what Peter didn't expect was Deadpool being two steps ahead of him. In the process of being pulled towards Spiderman, Deadpool put his arm around the small of Peter's back and pulled him the rest of the distance. Before Peter had time to react, he got trapped in Deadpool's embrace and got kissed. Wade had tilted his head just right as to when Peter landed in his grasp, their lips touched, even though Deadpool's were covered with his mask it still shocked Peter. This is when Deadpool made his escape. He twirled Peter out of his grip and skipped towards the door, pausing in the door frame to look back at a very disgruntled Spiderman. 

“See ya next patrol baby boy!” Deadpool singsonged then disappeared into the darkened hall. Peter remained still, his head spinning both by being twirled and kissed. He was definitely gonna overthink this later tonight, but he had bigger issues to worry about at the moment. Like how he was gonna clean up this mess. Or how he was gonna get home. It's not like he could just stroll out of the building wearing his Spiderman costume but no mask. If anyone was awake at this time, they would see him. And since it was New York, someone somewhere was definitely awake. 

Peter ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling loudly. How could Deadpool just leave him like this? He was stuck. Stuck in a small laboratory with a dozen broken test tubes with a mysterious liquid pooling on the floor. Stuck with a blood stain on the floor as well, something else he'd have to clean up. And he'll probably get stuck at home because his fathers are gonna be pissed at him. This was not gonna end well for Peter. Nonetheless, despite all the consequences, Peter found the cleaning closet and started to mop up the mess. He made sure to leave no trace of Wade's blood behind, he didn't want whoever was here to run a DNA test and find out that two people snuck in. Speaking of which, Peter was still hesitant to declare this mission as a success. Tonight, him and Deadpool discovered some of the five W's. They found the where, and a little bit of the what and when. Where: This lab. What: Testing on animals. When: Started a few weeks ago. But the who and why were missing. Who was behind this? And most importantly, why? What did they want with this drug? What were they trying to do with it, other than all the animal testing? Peter had no clue, and he assumed Deadpool didn't either, despite his suspicious behaviour tonight. He almost felt a tinge of anger towards the merc. He left Peter with this mess, all alone. And because of what? A little game? In reality, Wade should show Peter his face, it is only fair after all. 

Peter shook his head. What was he thinking? Deadpool was a selfish bastard. It was kind of his thing. He's sarcastic, rude, and never knows when to shut up. That was Deadpool in a nutshell. But what Peter saw tonight from the maniac killing machine was something completely different. Wade demonstrated skill tonight, and he did always think ahead. He always seemed to have a trick up his sleeve or be one step ahead of everything. But then he went a little crazy all because of some drug. Peter could basically confirm now that Deadpool had a history with drugs, he just didn't know what it was. Wade also saved Peter, even though the incident was partially his fault. What kind of idiot shoots his own foot? Deadpool. That kind of idiot. Out of all the times Spiderman and Deadpool had teamed up before, this was by far the weirdest. Wade actually showed some signs of being human. And that was the last thing Peter thought Deadpool could be. But why was he contemplating this so much? Now Peter felt slightly mad at himself. He shouldn't be so worked up over the biggest asshole in the world. What did Peter expect? For Deadpool to actually have his back and be a good friend? Maybe his parents were onto something, Peter was still kind of naive. 

He finished cleaning within the hour, leaving the lab almost exactly as it was before they came. However, Peter left one element there, all the broken test tubes. He had taken a rabbit out of it's cage and carefully set it near the cabinet, making it look like the animal had escaped during the night and knocked all of the tubes over. He hoped that would be convincing enough. Now for the second problem, how the hell was Peter gonna get home? He couldn't risk going home in his Spiderman outfit and face exposed. He couldn't take a lab coat from here, whoever ran this would notice that it's gone. That left only one option. Take off his suit. The downfall with that plan? He'd be walking the streets in nothing but a pair of boxers. It was humiliating, but the best idea he had. Peter grabbed a garbage bag and started to undress himself, stuffing his suit and mask into the bag. With a deep breath, he walked out of the lab, down the hall, and out of the building. The cool night air hit him like a slap. It was freezing. Peter decided to run as fast as he could home.  
~~  
“Welcome home, Peter.” Jarvis spoke as soon as Peter entered Stark tower. The classic greeting system, and Peter completely forgot about it. This is why he uses windows to sneak in and out.

“Shh, don't be so loud.” Peter called out. In the beginning, Peter wasn't use to talking out loud to basically nobody. He's brain couldn't quite grasp the concept of Jarvis. But as he got older, he got use to it, even studied his dad's technology a little bit. And now Peter could easily have a conversation with the program. Though sometimes he felt a little crazy for doing it. Peter tiptoed over to the elevator as it brought him up to the top floor. He prayed that Jarvis didn't wake up his parents. Out of all the things Peter went through tonight, pissed off parents were the last thing he wanted to deal with. Let alone in his underwear. 

With a ding, the doors parted and Peter snuck in. At first glance, the room seemed empty. No one at the bar, the living area was too dark to see, and the hall was bare. That's where Peter wanted to be. Down the hall, two doors down was his room. He was so close to his location. But as soon as he took two steps in, his spidey-sense went off. Someone was definitely in the room, on the couch. Peter groaned. He knew he had been caught, might as well get it over with. He walked towards the in-ground, surrounding couch. And seated there with his arms crossed in his pyjamas and night robe was Steve. 

“Hey...Pops.” Peter attempted a grin, but it was hard with his chattering teeth. He could only imagine what he looked like. Blue lips, bare skin, hugging himself for warmth, his legs shaking. And last of all, a garbage bag in his hand. 

“Peter,” Steve began, standing up. But once he looked at his son up and down, some of his anger melted away and was replaced by concern, “You're freezing. C'mere.” Steve took off his night robe and held it open. With a sense of relief, Peter gladly ran towards his father. Steve wrapped Peter in his fuzzy robe and brought him into a hug. He set his chin on top of his son's head. Peter didn't mind, he actually found it quite comforting. With content, he snuggled into his Pop's warm embrace. 

After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke, “Peter?”

“Yeah?” Peter sniffed, not because he was crying, but because he was so damn cold.

“Why don't you have any clothes on?” 

“I got some chemicals on my Spiderman suit.” Peter answered simply, his mind a bit dazed. He just wanted to curl up and sleep. Whether it be in his bed or right here in his father's arms, he didn't care. Steve always acted more like a mother to Peter. His embrace was warm and he radiated comfort. Peter felt safe with Steve. It's why Peter calls him Pops, and calls Tony Dad. Tony, to Peter, always played more the role of the father. They had that father-son bond that most people dream of. He was like a mentor to Peter, someone to look up to. Someone whose pat on the back or hair ruffle showed more affection than his words. 

“How did you get chemicals on you?” Steve always had this way of extracting information from Peter. When he was little, Steve always got Peter to tell the truth. Like if he really did steal a cookie from the jar, or climbed up on the ceiling when he wasn't suppose to. Peter wasn't quite sure how he did it. Maybe it was his calm tone, or the way he only ask one question at a time, making it simple to answer. 

“I accidentally bumped into the cabinet that held the drugs and some broke.” Even in this sleepy state, Peter still wouldn't reveal that he was working with Deadpool. The Avengers knew who the merc was, and none of them like him very much. 

“Are you okay?” At this question, Peter knew it was coming to an end. 'Are you okay' is always the last question Steve asks before moving onto a different topic. It doesn't matter what the conversation was about, he just wanted to know the well being of his son. So to this question Peter nodded his head. Thanks to Wade, he was okay. Though why would he ever tell his Pops that? 

They stepped out of the hug. The warmth was now gone and Peter found himself missing it already, feeling a strange sense of loneliness. Like when you're cuddling someone and they get up to use the bathroom, and in those two minutes that they're gone, you really miss them. Or at least, you miss the warmth and comfort they provided. Although, once Peter got a good look at what his Pop was wearing, he could barely stifle his laugh. 

“It's hard to take you seriously with those bunny slippers on.” Peter teased. And Steve, not being offended by what Peter said, grinned along with his son. 

“I happen to like my bunny slippers. They're very warm.” 

“And those bunny slippers,” Tony's voice came from behind Peter's back. When he turned around, he saw his dad standing a few feet away from him, “happen to be a gift from me.” 

Now Peter was in for it, he could feel it. Steve was never as harsh with Peter as Tony was. Turns out IronMan is a very strict parent. Peter's heart sank. He dreaded the lecture or scolding or punishment that was about to come. Surprise surprise, it doesn’t matter how old you are, if you still live with your parents they're still in charge of you. 

“Hi Dad.” That's all Peter could manage to say. Despite his mind running a hundred miles a minute, his body was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Right now. 

“You were out unusually late young man.” This was how all the lectures started. Not the out late part, but the young man part. 

“Tony,” Steve cut in, Peter thankful that one of his fathers was on his side, “Peter's not hurt and it was just this one time.” It was technically true. Last time Peter had snuck out, this time he just stayed out too late. 

Tony silenced Steve with a wave of his hand. A signal that's often used for 'I don't care'. Peter braced himself for scolding as Tony closed the distance between them. But next, Peter didn't feel the sting of harsh words. He felt his dads arms wrap around him. This was unusual. Tony was rarely a hugging man. But here he was, hugging his son tightly. 

“You look like an idiot in just your boxers.” To anyone else, this comment would have ruined the moment. But Peter knew his dad was just trying to care. Tony was never overly emotional, and Peter had a suspicion that his rebelliousness came from his dad's influence. So with these traits, it was naturally hard for Tony to express a lot of emotions, let alone talk about them. So in the end, Peter appreciated his dad's comment. And it was true, he did look like an idiot, “Though you do look pretty cute in your Pop's robe.”  
Peter chuckled, not necessarily because it was funny, but simply out of relief and joy. His fathers decided to go easy on him tonight because, it if wasn't obvious already, he had a rough night. 

“Doesn't he look cute Steve?” Tony asked and opened his arms, Steve gladly walked in and joined the hug. If Uncle Thor was here, he would have hugged them all, picking them up off the ground. But the Avengers seemed to have gone home already, having spent the night last time and the day. Peter had no clue what they were planning or investigating, but that wasn't anything new. Steve and Tony were often very secretive when it came to the Avengers, and didn't like to get Peter involved. They claimed for his safety, but Peter didn't always buy into it. 

“He looks adorable.” Steve agreed and kissed the top of his sons head. With a laugh, Tony hugged them all tighter and Peter was left squished between his fathers. 

“Not to break up the bond,” Peter said with a laugh, “But I really could use some sleep.”

“Go get some sleep sweetie.” Steve smiled and gave Peter one last kiss on his head, the hug coming to an end. Tony took the garbage bag from Peter's hand and he was sent off to bed. With heavy eyes, Peter managed to find his way down the hall and he entered his room. Almost immediately, he flopped down on his bed. Ironically, despite being dead tired, his mind was suddenly awake. 

“Great, just, great.” Peter grumbled and snuggled deeper into his blankets. He rolled on his side and stared blankly at the wall, getting lost in his thoughts. 

_Deadpool kissed me tonight._ Peter shook his head. Deadpool was the last thing he wanted to think about. He tried to concentrate on other things. Like how he should have grabbed a test tube from the lab to study. Or if there were any clues as to who could be behind this. But eventually, after every possible thought Peter could think of, he always went back to thinking about Wade. Like what possessed him into agreeing letting Deadpool tag along for his missions. It was just the one right? And after the way Wade reacted tonight was a sign to not let him come along anymore. He was unstable. He nearly shot Peter tonight. Deadpool wasn't safe. He was noisy and chatty and annoying as hell. But no matter how many times Peter listed off Wade's bad qualities, he always felt guilty after. He should hate Deadpool. He always has and thought he always would. But Peter felt guilty. Guilty for bringing up drug testing while Wade was clearly upset. Guilty for not putting away the chemical when Wade was obviously freaked out. And guilty for wanting to take off Deadpool's mask. Peter didn't quite know his source of guilt for that one, but that happened more often than one might think. 

There was one thought, however, that Peter kept thinking about. What attracted him to Deadpool? Not in like a romantic sense, but just in general. After every team up they did, Spiderman would tell himself that this was the last one. But then they'd do it again. And again. Why couldn't Peter just say no? He wasn't that big of a fan of Deadpool to begin with, yet in the end, they always ended up teaming up again. Peter had his suspicions as to why, though would never admit it to himself. What attracted him to Wade was that they were both lost souls. They were equally as lonely. They were both in need of a friend. And they figured that each other's company was better than no company at all. In the end, Peter just wanted a friend. And turns out Deadpool would gladly fill that void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spideypool fluff and Superfamily fluff all in one chapter! You spoiled motherfuckers


	5. Chapter 4

{Run.}

[Run faster.] 

“Would you two shut the fuck up? I'm running as fast as I can!” 

{Well that was rude.} 

[Why don't you shut us up? We're your thoughts after all.]

“Don't you think I fucking tried? I can't get rid of you guys! Now be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate of running away.”

{Just because Spidey freaked you out, doesn't mean you have to take it out on us.} 

Deadpool let out a frustrated yell as his feet continued to launch him down the sidewalk. Just mere minutes ago, he ran from the abandon lab where he and Spidey were investigating. He tried to keep his cool all evening. Granted, he did end up losing it, but that wasn't his fault.

[Yes it was.]

Okay fine, it was his fault. He just wasn't prepared to deal with drug testing, let alone the same drug that Weapon-X used on him. In those test tubes were that stress drug that he was first injected with at the beginning of his movie. If you didn't watch it nor made the connect, that whole 'drug freak out scene' would have been very confusing. So he almost shot his best, and only, friend. Was that a big deal?

{Of course it's a fucking big deal.}

[You done fucked up.]

{Spidey is never gonna forgive us!}

Deadpool didn't want to think about that. He felt that him and Peter had some real bonding moments tonight, though Spidey was not a fan of the lover-like treatment. Wade couldn't help but tease the young hero, he was just so fucking cute when embarrassed. And that kiss tonight, it was almost worth taking off the mask just to properly taste his baby boy's lips. He would definitely have to put this one in the book, 'Deadpool's greatest moments: Indirectly kissed Spiderman.' It had a nice ring to it. But that's where the problem was. It was right before that moment where this whole night went to shit. His fucking mask. That's where Petey over stepped the line a little bit, even if he wasn't aware. Truth was, Deadpool was self conscious about his scars. He hated them. Especially the ones on his face. Those were the worst. At times, Wade could handle the ones on his legs or arms, even his torso. But there was something about the face that made him cringe. To Wade, his scars were just a constant reminder of how fucking ugly he was. Of his time in Weapon-X. Thanks to that, he couldn't even look at dish soap the same way anymore. So you could only imagine what it was like when he looked in a mirror. So when his sweetums wanted him to take off his mask, he just couldn't do it. He didn't want Peter to see just how ugly he is. Deadpool is sure that Peter knows how ugly he can be on the inside. Which is odd when you think about it. Usually people get to know the outside of you, before the inside. But that was the opposite with Wade. Maybe that's why he could never maintain a stable relationship with anybody. In any sense really. Romantic, friendship, sibling-like type thing. Nothing. 

{We haven't cut in for a while, I think we're due.} 

[Yeah I agree. Hey asshat!]

“What?” Deadpool immediately knew his thought boxes were talking to him when he heard the nickname. But then again, who else would they be talking to?

[You're a piece of shit for leaving Peter behind.]

“Gee thanks.”

{You know what would make you feel better?} 

“What?”

{Comfort food.}

[I can second that.] 

“You guys make it sound like we're breaking up. Peter and I aren't dating (yet).” 

[Well he most likely hates you.]

{For sure he does...fo shizzle.}

Deadpool was silent for a moment, contemplating what his thoughts were proposing. 

“Tacos it is then.” 

[{Yay!}] 

~~  
Deadpool slowly kicked open the door to his apartment. Well Spiderman's apartment that he was staying in. He'll have to figure out a name for it later. Point is, he slowly kicked opened the door and peaked inside. Peter wasn't there. Wade didn't know what he suspected. Half of him hoped Spidey would have been waiting for him when he got home, but if by any chance he was, it would have probably been to kick Deadpool out. Though there was no Spidey to be seen, and Wade couldn't tell if this was good or bad. In one case, he got to stay in the apartment, in the other there was no Spiderman. That was it. It was bad simply because Spiderman wasn't here. That meant no fine ass to look at, and no blush to see on his face. It was disappointing, those were usually 'pick me uppers' for Deadpool. Well that, and tacos. Of which he had two dozen of. He may have gone a little over board. 

Wade walked in and kicked the door closed, his hands were currently unavailable due to the two large bags he was carrying. He could practically feel the grease soaking through the brown paper and into his suit. Deadpool set the bags down on the living room coffee table. That's when he smelt it. A putrid smell radiating from somewhere. Not a moment later, Deadpool realized that it was coming off of him.

“Oh shit, we smell disgusting.”

{Did we smell like this all night?}

[Yes.]

“Aw fuck, do you think Spidey noticed?”

[Probably. He has heightened senses you know.]

Deadpool groaned. If his awful personality didn't chase Peter away, then this smell definitely would have. 

“I need to shower.”

[No shit Sherlock.]

“Hey if I'm Sherlock, does that make Spidey Watson?” Deadpool chuckled to himself. If people didn't already ship him and Spiderman together, then they'd definitely would now. People go crazy over Johnlock! That's their ship name right? 

{Please just go wash your suit or something.}

“Alright alright, I'll take care of it.” Deadpool waved his hand as if to dismiss his boxes. He traveled down the short hall that separated the living room wall from the kitchen wall. Down this hall was his bedroom, and the bathroom equipped with: Toilet, Sink, Shower, and a washing machine along with the dryer off in the corner. Compared to what Wade was use to, the rather small bathroom was quite luxurious. The walls -while suppose to be white tile- were stained with yellow around the edges. The floor was also tile, but they were tinted with grey and much less dirty. Wade found that kind of ironic, floors were supposed to be more dirty. People walked on them all the time. 

[Stay focused.]

“I am focused! I am nothing but focused!” Wade began to undress himself, starting with his suit, he unhooked his belt and removed any weapons. He opened the washer and dropped the fabric in there while pulling out the detergent from the cabinet above. And unlike Spiderman, Wade perfectly knew that he wasn't wearing underwear. It always wrinkled his suit. He was about the close the top of the machine when white box interrupted him, he was awfully chatty today.

[The mask, Wade. You have to wash the mask.]

“I knew that!” He grabbed the bottoms of his mask, but froze. Out of the corner of his eye, Wade saw himself in the mirror above the sink. 

[Uh-oh, a mirror.]

{Turn away! Before it's too late!}

Deadpool ignored his thoughts and walked over to the mirror. He studied himself. His shoulders, his torso, his masked face. Speaking of which, he was still gripping the bottom of it, his hands trembling. Very few things disturbed Deadpool nor was he scared of a lot. He thought of killing both as a sport and a job. Hell, he hallucinated things all the time. However, that doesn't mean he's fearless. Hospitals freak him out, and by hospitals he means the whole package. Doctors, needles, drugs, etc. Gives him the chills. He also doesn't like closed-in spaces. Some would argue that Wade's claustrophobic, but whoever has ever said that, he corrected them by saying it's just cause he doesn't have enough crotch room then shoots them. He was scared of living, simply because he can't have death. What kind of fool wants to live forever? And lastly, Wade was afraid of mirrors. Not so much the mirror itself, but what it reflected. 

So with shaking hands, Wade started to slowly lift up his mask, unable to tear his gaze away from the mirror. First, his neck was revealed, then his chin, he even got it up to his nose but then Wade stopped. His mouth was already in a scowl despite being revealed mere seconds ago. He couldn't do it. He couldn't pull off the rest, not when he had himself staring at him. 

{That was confusing.}

[It just means he can't do it while looking in the mirror.]

{Why don't we just turn away.}

[Because that would be the smart thing to do.]

A low growl came from the back of Deadpool's throat, “I have a better idea.” He picked up a gun off the floor and shot the mirror three times. The glass shattered and fell all on the sink and floor. He'll have to clean that up later. Now with ease, Wade took off his mask, “See? Much more efficient.” 

{I didn't know that word was even in our vocabulary.}

[It's astonishing.]

{Another good one.}

“Sometimes you guys are just hurtful.”

{Not sorry.}

[Get in the shower scar face.]

Deadpool huffed, there was just no winning with himself. He tossed his mask in the washer like a basketball then walked over to close the hatch. With a start of a button, the machine started to whirr and Deadpool gave a satisfied smile, he could totally do his own laundry! One stink down, only body odor to go! At last, Wade got in the shower. For the first few minutes it only sprayed cold water, which would come in handy in he ever stared at Spidey's ass too long. After a few minutes it did start to warm up and Wade cursed beneath his breath as he realized he forgot about a towel. 

~~ 

With only a thin towel around his waist that he miraculously found, Wade strode out of the bathroom. His suit was now in the dryer and the floor of the bathroom was glass free and dry. You see, Wade had to go looking for a towel, so he got the apartment a little wet. But now he was fully dry, despite still wearing the towel, as he made his way to the living room. That's when he saw them. It was horrific. They were there before Wade got in the shower, and now it's too late. On the coffee table were two bags full of cold tacos! 

{Idiots! We're all idiots!}

[I think I'm gonna cry.]

Wade rushed over to the soggy bags, dropping to his knees. He really was a monster! He forgot his babies, the one thing he was looking forward too this evening, because he knew there was something else he was gonna have to do. He took the bags into his arms and slowly rose to his knees. It was not gonna be known that Deadpool, the king of Mexican food, was gonna let these hard-shell heroes go to waste. It wasn't exactly the comfort food he was imagining, but it was better than nothing. Cold tacos for supper it is then. 

[Wade, it's time.]

“Time for what?” Wade asked with a mouth full of taco goodness. Turns out the temperature of tacos doesn't really affect their tastiness. 

[You know what.]

Wade shook his head, playing the innocent act to the max, even with himself.

[It's time to...think.]

{*Screams*} 

Deadpool sighed, “Yeah I know. We gotta figure out what we're gonna do. They couldn't have found us already.” Just earlier tonight, when Wade and Peter were investigating that lab, the web-head had found this mysterious drug. Except, it wasn't so mysterious to Deadpool. He knew that substance fairly well. Weapon-X had used it on him to induce him to extreme stress. 

{Didn't we already explain this?}

[It's recap. Keep going.]

Anyway, years ago Deadpool escaped from Weapon-X, it's all in his origin story. They have been chasing him since he was a kid, he ran everywhere. He ran from May-Flower's home, he tried to kill himself at 18, but failed. He even fled back to Canada and to the military. But fucking Weapon-X never gave up, even now they're still after him. What for? Wade has yet to figure it out. But point is, running from Weapon-X is what got Deadpool in this situation. He ran from his country of maple syrup and snow -and the author is Canadian so she is allowed to make fun her own country- to New York. His goal? Find a superhero to protect him. It was funny, Deadpool needed protecting. And where better to look for a superhero than New York? In all honesty, he wanted the Avengers to protect him, or he even considered going back to May-Flower, but he doubted she'd remember him. So Spiderman it was, and he was his best bet. Wade got the feeling Spidey was the only guy who didn't completely hate his guts, and would sympathize with Deadpool the most. After all, they were both lonely as fuck. Why else didn't Spiderman have a team? However, Deadpool would hardly say that Spiderman is protecting him right at the moment, Wade honestly thought he would have been living with his baby boy in some sort of Spider-cave or something. Turns out he just has two homes. But with a little sweet talk, Wade believed he could get Spidey into his own apartment and they could live together. And, more importantly, Deadpool would have someone to protect him. Or at the very least, have his back.

[Okay, recap done, get onto the real problem.] 

Right okay, so the sticky situation Deadpool currently found himself in was that Weapon-X may be in New York and he could get hunted down. That was the obvious dilemma. The more difficult one? What the fuck is he suppose to tell Spiderman? Or does he tell his Petey-Pie at all? Peter was the last person Wade wanted to get involved with Weapon-X, but he's the first person Wade would go to with a problem. And he was definitely in some deep shit. 

“We can't get Petey involved.” Wade muttered to himself, slipping a third taco into his mouth. 

[So we don't tell him about Weapon-X?]

{Great plan, suffer by ourselves and get captured!}

“I don't need your sarcasm right now.” It was classic yellow thought box. He was the sarcastic one. White thought box as the last shred of sensibility that Deadpool had left. As for Deadpool himself?

[He's the stupid one. The one who makes rash decisions without thinking first.]

“What are you trying to hint at?” 

[We don't even know if it is Weapon-X at that shitty lab. It could be anyone! What I propose is, you wait. Keep investigating with Spidey. Find clues to who is behind this. If it's not Weapon-X then great. If it is, we're fucked. But we're not fucked till the dick gets hard.]

{Was that suppose to be a 'show's not over till the fat lady sings' type thing?}

[Yes.]

“Hold on guys, White might have a point.” 

[See? You talk dick and he understands.] 

“We can have our own investigation, as we investigate with Spidey-widey!” Deadpool stood up excitedly, shoving the rest of his 5th taco down his throat. 

[I believe that was the point I made.] 

{So, we're staying in New York?}

“That's right Yellow, we are staying in New York. In this little apartment Spidey has given us.” Deadpool nodded proudly then looked around the room, “Hmm, it could be a little more homey though.”

[What do you suggest?]

“Well, we have a warehouse a few cities over, we can stop by there and pick up some of our stuff. Just the basics, our guns, extra suits, sewing material in case we get bored. Shit like that.” 

{Sounds like a plan Stan the man.}

[We have another problem.]

“You're such a downer sometimes.” Deadpool grumbled, taking a seat back on the couch. He picked up two more tacos as he listened to himself talk. 

[What do we do about money?]

“Wat do you ean? W'er rric!” (Translation: What do you mean? We're rich!)

{Don't talk with your mouth full.}

[I know that we're rich, taco breath. I mean that we can't keep spending it like this. Spidey thinks we're broke, that's why he's letting us stay here.]

“Oh. I see.” Deadpool gulped, his two tacos disappearing withing seconds, “So what are you saying?”

[We either have to pick up some jobs, or stop spending money we're pretending we don't have.]

{But Spidey said no killing.}

[He'll never know.]

Deadpool thought this over. He did need some spending cash to make Spidey think he is earning money. But on the other hand, he promised Spidey not to kill while they're partners. He didn't want to disappoint his sweetums. He promised. 

{Why do you care? We break promises all the time.}

“Because I- I just do! This time is different.” Wade defended himself, to himself. He shouldn't have to justify his actions to his thoughts. Wade was his own person. An independent lad! He didn't need no man in this world! 

{You seem to want Spiderman.}

He didn't need no man -other than Spiderman- in this world! 

{Better.}

[So what's the plan?]

“Here's what we're gonna do. First, we're gonna finish these tacos. Then, we're gonna go to my warehouse and get some stuff to make this apartment more suitable for long-term living. And finally, we'll only pick up jobs that doesn't involve killing! Ba-boom, I'm a genius!” Deadpool stood up and crumpled his many taco wrappers. He waited, but nothing came, his voices were silent, “What? No comment? No snag remark about my stupidity? Guys?”

{It's actually a pretty good plan.}

[Yeah, one of your better ones.]

Deadpool gasped with both shock and joy. His boxes were actually complimenting him! 

“Aww you guys, it was nothing.” Wade acted bashful, cupping his cheeks as if he were blushing. 

And for once, Deadpool actually stuck to the plan. He inhaled the rest of his 17 tacos from the two dozen he had bought and threw out his trash. Wade already broke a mirror tonight, he shouldn't wreck the rest of the place. Once done his tacos, Wade went to get his suit from the dryer. There was nothing like a warm suit after eating 24 tacos in one evening. And, at last, he got the comfort of his mask back. Now he could stare at his handsome self in a mirror...if there was one. He strapped his belt back on, picked up his guns, and put his katanas back in their sheath. With a crack of his neck, Deadpool smile.

“Now that, feels better.” Deadpool rolled his shoulders, now he felt like himself. How could he be the merc with a mouth without his merc costume?

{Are we gonna leave tonight?}

“Of course we are, it's not like we sleep anyway.” That was another thing added to the fear list. Wade was afraid of sleep. Or rather, the nightmares that always came with sleep. So the merc always avoided it as much as possible. It's not like he could die from being sleep deprived, believe him, he tried. 

{Shouldn't we tell Spidey that we're leaving for a few days?}

[No, I doubt he's gonna come back. If he does, it's to kick us out. He hates us now, remember?]

{We could leave a note.}

“You don't know that he hates us. And I'm sure it'll be fine. He can call us if he's worried.” And with that Deadpool jumped out the window. It seemed to be the place to both enter and exit the apartment. He did it. Spidey does it. Why the hell not? The drop wasn't very high, 12 feet at most. And if anything broke as he landed on the ground, it would heal in no time. 

[We forgot something.]

“What?” Deadpool wondered as he ran down the streets. Maybe he should invest in a car. 

[Spidey doesn't have our number.]

Well shit. Maybe he should have left a note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, plot development...


	6. Chapter 5

Three days had passed since Peter last went to see Deadpool, and now the guilt was eating him alive. He should have went to check on him the night of the investigation. Instead, Peter has been doing everything in his power to avoid Deadpool. Not that he saw him much. Come to think of it, Peter never saw Wade walking about in town. Granted, he didn't know what Deadpool really looked like, but Peter was usually good at placing people nonetheless. It made Peter wonder just how often did Wade leave his apartment? But no, Peter did not go check in on Wade, or go to apologize. He hasn't even been out as Spiderman. Instead, Peter was been drowning himself in his work, his science studies, and helping around the house. He was trying to exhaust himself so by the end of the day he was too tired to go out as Spiderman, and too tired to go see Deadpool. It was all an elaborate trick to avoid owning up to Wade. The thing is, Peter is shit at apologizing. He gets all flustered and worked up and widely embarrassed. Unlike Deadpool, Peter does not have a way with words. He's more an actions kind of guy. Doing something nice for someone is much easier than talking, and in Peter's opinion, it means a lot more. And over the past three days, he has been trying to think of a nice act to do for Deadpool. Just to say sorry for pushing him too far. It wasn't until now that Peter realized he knew shit about Deadpool. What he likes, what he doesn't. So that made apologizing a lot harder. 

“Peter! Breakfast is ready!” Steve's voice rang from down the hall. Peter sat up in bed and ran his finger through the mess that he calls hair. There was no point in trying to flatten it, his hair always stuck up in awkward tuffs. 

“I'm coming!” Peter called back, his voice still heavy with the grog of tiredness. He rubbed his sleepy eyes before officially getting out of bed, leaving the warmth of his heavy blankets behind him. He trudged down the hall, not caring that he didn't have a shirt on. Peter was an only pants kind of sleeper. He must of got that habit from Tony, he did the exact same thing. As Peter entered the kitchen, he came into the scene of Steve cooking and Tony hugging his waist from behind, his lips resting on Steve's shoulder. It was rare that his dad would do sweet things or be all lovey-dovey, so when he did it always came as an unwanted surprise to Peter. 

“Gross, did not want to see that.” Peter commented, although he did have a slight amused tone. While half of him was grossed out by his loving parents, the other half was extremely grateful. With the choice between overly sappy or very distant parents, Peter would gladly pick overly sappy any day. He was grateful that his parents loved each other as much as they did. 

“Oh Peter, your dad's just being sweet.” Steve pointed out and Tony laughed, letting go of his husband's waist and sat down at their kitchen table. It was located at the center of the kitchen and it was oddly simple. It could be assumed that since Tony was rich as hell, all their stuff would be expensive. It was possible that this wooden table could be made from some fine Indian wood or whatever, Peter wasn't an expert on tables, but it just seemed so simple. Like a table one would find in a classic family home. 

“So what's for breakfast today?” Peter asked, taking a seat adjacent some his dad.

“Your Pop's famous omelets.” It was Tony who replied, his voice having the slightest echo as he talked into his coffee cup before taking a sip. Steve's omelets weren't actually famous, nor was there anything special to them. It's just that if any homemade food survived in this house without catching on fire first, then they become famous. More often than not, Steve is the one who wins that title, “Hey Pete.” Tony continued, “Don't you have to work today?”

“Yeah, at 9:00, why?” Peter questioned as he buttered his toast.

“Because it's currently 9:10.”

Peter quickly looked up at the clock and his fears were confirmed. This would be the third time Peter was going to be late for work. And his boss is the type of man who only gives two chances, “Shit!” Peter quickly grabbed his toast and shoved it in his mouth. 

“Language.” Steve cut in with one hand placed on his hip and the other pointed a very accusing spatula at Peter.

“Sorry Pops.” Peter apologized and leaped over the table. He kissed Steve on the cheek and then Tony before leaving, “Love you guys!” He called back before running out of the room and out of Stark tower.

“Should we go after him?” Steve asked once Peter was completely gone. The kid ran out of here so fast that him and Tony didn't have time to tell him that he was still in his pyjamas. 

“Nah,” Tony replied, taking another sip of his coffee, “He'll figure it out.”

~~ 

Peter ran into the B.C.P. The Bugle Company Production. No sooner than two steps pass the rotating glass doors did Peter smack into something hard. He stumbled a few steps backwards but luckily didn't fall. With a shake of his head to clear up confusion, Peter finally looked up at the thing -or rather, the person- he bumped in to. It was just Peter's luck, standing before him with a glare that could burn holes right through you and a mustache that never ceased to be perfectly trimmed, was his boss. 

“S-sorry Mr. Jameson!” Peter stuttered out an apology though he knew it would do him no good. He clutched the brown leather strap of his shoulder bag, bracing himself. 

“Parker.” His boss' voice was not short of terrifying. He sounded as he if was constantly yelling, even when he spoke in a normal tone, and just finished gargling a mouthful of gravel. Peter flinched at how harsh his name came from Mr. Jameson’s lips.

“Yes sir?” Peter dared to meet his boss' gaze but immediately regretted it once he made contact with his black orbs that supposedly passed as eyes.

“You are currently,” Mr. Jameson paused and glanced down at his Rolex watch, “24 minutes late and you arrived here without a shirt and in your pyjama pants.” 

Peter's cheeks heated with a bright red blush. At this point the whole office went silent and was currently staring at Peter who quickly glanced down and back up again. Shit. Shit. Shit! This was bad! Peter couldn't believe that he forgot to get dressed. He ran out of his home so quickly it just slipped his mind. It was official now, Peter was a complete idiot. 

“I-I um, uhhhh” Peter gave up half way in trying to come up with some sort of explanation. It was pointless. He was most likely gonna get fired. 

“My office. Now!” Mr. Jameson shouted and Peter gladly obeyed. He ran past all the staring faces within the cubicles, their stories for the newspaper long forgotten as some idiot teenager bolted pass them in nothing but a pair of Spongebob pj pants. Peter climbed the many staircases then opened the door to Mr. Jameson's office and entered quickly. For an office, it was rather large. A dark, cherry oak desk sat against far wall, placed perfectly in the middle. Floor-to-ceiling windows were behind the desk, displaying the view of various New York City buildings, it was nothing special. The left wall was entirely bookshelves. Hundreds, maybe thousands of old dusty books and out dated newspapers littered the shelves. The right wall had two large grey filing cabinets that did not go with the rustic colour scheme of the room. And lastly, in the closest left corner was a single potted plant. Well, it was more of a tree, it resembled a palm-tree. The thin beige trunk twisted at odd angles and dead leaves surrounded the base of the pot. With a soft click, Peter closed the door behind him and sat in one of the two cushioned chairs in front of the desk. Peter waited patiently for Mr. Jameson to arrive, silently cursing at himself for not having super speed. Out of all the powers Peter got from that radioactive spider, ability to stick to walls, shooting webs from his wrist, heightened sense, super strength, even a slight healing factor! But super speed was not one of them.

“Mr. Parker.” Jameson's voice pierced like a bullet through the once quiet atmosphere of the office. The slam of the door followed. Even his foots steps were intimidating as he strode his way over to Peter, each echo seemed to grow louder and louder. With a firm grip, Mr. Jameson put a hand on Peter's shoulder as he walked by, making Peter shrink even more withing himself, “Mr. Parker.” Jameson repeated Peter's name, “What am I suppose to do with you.” It wasn't a question, merely a statement. And his boss was just another person to add to the list of who treats Peter like a child. 

“Sir, I can explain.” That was a lie. Peter couldn't explain. Waking up too late and rushing in the morning wasn't exactly what one would call a valid excuse. 

“I'm not interested in what you have to say for yourself.” Mr. Jameson took a seat in his hair, placing folded hands onto his desk. Peter gulped, “I warned you what would happen if you were late again.”

“I know sir, but-” Before Peter could finish, his boss put up a hand to silence him. Peter shut his mouth, he was in enough trouble already without saying anything more. Shutting up would probably be for the best.

“You're late for a third time. You come in here half naked. You're ridiculing my company! Would you blame me if I fired you?” Peter shook his head in response to his boss' question before he continued with a sigh, “You're a smart kid Parker. You got talent. Do you at least have your column done for tomorrow's paper?” 

“Y-yes sir!” Peter fumbled over his words as he reached in his bag, searching frantically for his article. Seconds later, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and some photos, setting them on the desk.

With a raised eyebrow, Mr. Jameson unfolded the piece of paper in front of him and read what Peter wrote. A minute of silence passed between the two men as Jameson picked up and filed through the photos Peter had taken. In all honestly, Peter couldn't remember what this article was about. He was usually in charge of the science section of the paper. So it was a nice mix between his two passions. Science and photography. Peter remembered the first article he ever submitted, it was what helped land him this job. He had did it on famous scientist and doctor, Bruce Banner. Admittedly, it might have counted as cheating due to the fact that Bruce was basically an uncle to Peter, but the Daily Bugle didn't know that. 

“Alright Parker, your article is pretty good. I'll let this slide. But don't think that you can ever get away with this again.” Mr. Jameson wagged a finger at Peter, but Peter was too relieved to care, “But for God's sake boy, put some decent clothes on. If you go in the storage room in the back, there should be a spare shirt or something.” 

“Th-thank you sir!” Peter stood up and, normally, he would have shaken Mr. Jameson's hand before leaving but the creased in his brow told him not to touch the already boiling man. While he may have left Peter off the hook, he was still pissed. 

“Parker, one more thing!” His boss called out and Peter halted in the doorway, turning around, “You're on inking duty.”

With a swift nod to his boss, Peter continued his way out before letting his shoulders drop. Inking duty was the worse. It's when you go to the printing room and more often than not their inking machines get jammed. The people in charge of the printing unit don't like to fix the machines themselves so who do they get to do it? The interns. And that's what Peter was. He was an intern, paid, luckily. There were about three interns here and Peter seemed to be the favourite to pick on. An intern's job in a nutshell consist of running around for everyone in the office and preforming unwanted jobs (like inking). But once a week each intern gets to write a news coverage and submit it to Mr. Jameson, he then picks the best one and publishes it in the Daily Bugle. Most of the time Peter's report would win, and that's why the other interns didn't like him very much. 

Peter found the back room easily enough and searched through it. Granted, he found an old dress shirt, definitely not made for inking, but had to suffice. Did Peter mention inking was a messy job? Each time the printing machines would clog up, they'd spray a batch of ink on you. It wasn't pleasant. Peter slipped on the shirt, much too large for his slender frame, and walked out now smelling like musk. This wasn't one of Peter's most fashionable choices, but pj pants and an old dusty shirt was better than nothing. Next, Peter found his way to the printing room. Newspapers by the dozen were shooting out of each machine as the workers stood by waiting to collect the next batch. Each one of them looked up as soon as Peter entered and tried to stifle their laughter. He was definitely gonna get teased for this. 

Peter stood against the far wall and waited for the first machine to bust out. That's all an inker did. They sat. They waited. They fix the ink clog in the machine. Repeat. As soon as a machine clogged up not minutes after Peter came inside the room, he knew that this was going to be a long day.

~~

With a hefty sigh, Peter left the B.C.P. He was covered nearly head to toe in ink splatters. His hands were dyed black and now he had to pay for the dry cleaning on this ratty old shirt. Peter knew his boss was just being a dick by making Peter get this shirt cleaned, it was just a spare he found in the room, no one ever wore it. It was pointless. Mr. Jameson just wanted Peter to be more broke than he already was. 

The sun was starting to set by time Peter realized where he was heading to. On instinct, Peter didn't seem to go home. He didn't even go to his Aunt May's house. Without noticing, Peter walked himself to Deadpool's apartment. He must of been tired if he didn't realize that his first instinct was to go see Deadpool. Peter assumed it was his conscious telling him to go apologize. It was now or never Peter supposed. Peter slipped into the nearest ally and quickly changed into his Spiderman suit. He always carried one in his bag, just in case there was an emergency. Peter emerged out of the shadows and was about to climb up the building’s wall but paused when realized that he had nothing to give Deadpool. No object to say I'm sorry. He had squat. Peter frantically looked around and spotted a pizza shop across the street. That was something. Peter knew Deadpool liked pizza. It was better than nothing. So with a quick detour, Peter went out and got two pizzas for him and Deadpool to share. It was awkward ordering in his Spiderman suit, but by now Peter was use to all the harsh stares. Half of New York loved him, the other half hated him. He was a hero to some, and a menace to others. Frankly, Peter only really ran into the Spiderman haters. 

Now with two pizzas hanging in a protective web basket, Spiderman climbed up the side of the apartment complex and opened Deadpool's window. It was a bit more difficult climbing with one hand while the over was holding the string of web that was attached to the pizzas, but Peter managed. As the young hero slipped inside the apartment, he realized all the lights were off. Could Deadpool be sleeping? It wasn't that late. Maybe Peter should have called first, but there was no phone so how could he?

“Uh...Deadpool?” Peter called out and was now fully inside the apartment. He set the pizzas down on the living room coffee table and decided to look around the apartment. Maybe he was just in the bathroom? “Deadpool?” Peter tried his name again, this time a little louder. No response. Panic started to rise in the pit of Peter's stomach. What if he was kidnapped? Or hurt? But his healing factor would take care of that, wouldn't it? Peter picked up speed as he ran down the hall with the bathroom and bedroom. Both were empty. “Wade?!” Now Peter was really worried. Deadpool was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't have left New York already, he said a few months, not days! Peter ran back down the hall and started to search the apartment for clues. There was no trace of anything that indicated he was hurt or kidnapped. But where had Wade gone? Maybe he hated Peter now because of what happened. He really messed up this time. How long ago did Wade leave? Peter cursed beneath his breath, he should have came and apologized sooner. 

“Spidey?” 

Spiderman turned around to look at the apartment door. In the doorway was the famous merc with a mouth that Peter was just panicking over. He stared at Deadpool, his chest heaving slightly from running around the apartment in a panicked state. 

“Hey baby boy...you alright?” Deadpool titled his head and took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him. He actually sounded concerned, which would have surprised Peter if he wasn't angry at the moment. 

“You jerk! You- you” insults weren't Peter's strong point, not when he's angry, “Where the hell were you?!”

“Whoa, Petey-Pie, calm down.” Deadpool raised his hands against his chest, as if telling Peter to stop for a second.

“You calm down!”

“I'm not-”

“Shut up!”

Surprisingly, Deadpool did what he was told and shut his mouth. 

“You just left!? I thought we were partners! That's not what partners are suppose to do! You didn't call, you didn't leave a note!” Peter was raging now. He didn't know how long Deadpool was out, maybe he just went to run some errands. But it was too late to take back what Peter said. He was already exhausted from his rough day at work, so that just fueled his fire. 

“You're right, you're right. I should have left a note or something.” Deadpool admitted and started to slowly walk towards Peter, who seemed to be calming down now, “I'm sorry.” He said it so simply, and Peter was kind of jealous. He didn't think Deadpool was one to say sorry often, and maybe he wasn't. Maybe he really meant it. 

“Where did you go?” Peter asked and crossed his arms in an insecure manner, embarrassed by his previous yelling. 

“I was on a mission.”

“You went killing?!” Peter started to yell again, but kept his arms crossed. 

“No no no.” Deadpool reassured, “I just went to my warehouse a few cities over. To get some stuff to make this apartment a little more Deadpool friendly.” Peter only noticed now that Deadpool was carrying two huge ammo bags over his shoulders. 

“Those better not be guns in there.” Peter tried his best to sound stern, but he was too busy being relieved. Deadpool was safe and nobody, presumptively, got hurt. Though he would never admit it to himself, it was clear Peter was growing quite attached to Wade. It was nice to have a friend. 

“Well...” Deadpool hesitated and switched his weight from one foot to the other, “Not in both of them.”

Peter couldn't hold back his chuckle. And once Peter laughed, Deadpool joined him. Although he didn't know what was so funny. There was this strange sense of relief coming off of Deadpool. Peter couldn't place what Deadpool could possibly feel guilty for. But as soon as he thought of this, Peter realized it was a stupid thought. There was plenty for Deadpool to feel guilty for. How many lives has he taken? People he's beaten? But that raises the question why was Wade suddenly feeling relieved now? These were the kind of questions that went through Peter's head and made him question why the fuck does he care. 

“Hey Petey?” Peter turned his attention back on Deadpool once his name was called, well, his nickname.

“Yeah?”

“Why are there pizzas behind you?” 

Peter had completely forgotten about the pizzas and now was left with the task of an explanation. That was another one of Peter's not so strong points. His cheeks flushed a dusty pink and he was thankful for his mask. Unfortunately, his mask could not muffle his stutter.

“Y-you see, I uh. I bought them, and brought them here.” Peter scratched the back off his neck. He knew his answer was no good and he knew what Deadpool was gonna ask next. 

“Why?”

“Because...Because...” It was now or never, “Because I wanted to, uh, apologize.” If possible, Deadpool's white eyes widened, even with a mask he appeared taken aback. 

“Apologize?” 

“Yes.” Peter confirmed, wondering why it was so difficult to understand. He was clearly at fault.

“To me?” Deadpool pressed on in disbelief and pointed a finger at himself, as if to indicate Peter was sure he was apologizing to the right Deadpool.

“Yes, to you. I wanted to say I'm sorry for the other night.” 

“Why?” 

God Deadpool asked a lot of questions. It was making it much more difficult for Peter to apologize. 

“You know, for the whole drug freak out thing and the mask thing and, well, it was just wrong of me. So I bought the pizzas as a token of my apology.” Peter explained in the best, clearest way that he could manage. But Deadpool still seemed confused, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, it's just, umm..” It was remarkable. Deadpool was actually tongue tied, “Thanks?”

Peter frowned, “Do you not like pizza? I can get you something else if you want, anything really.”

“No no, it's not that.” Wade reassured, “I'm just, well, I'm not use to being apologized to. And uh, in fact I got you something in apology too.”

“You did?”

Without words, Deadpool nodded. Now it was Peter's turn to be at a lost for words. Why would Deadpool apologize? But Peter didn't protest as Wade shuffled through one of his Hello Kitty ammo bags and pulled out was appeared to be a folded lump of thick fabric. 

“Now when I said I got you something, I meant I made it.” Wade clarified before unfolded the fabric. The result left Peter shocked. Deadpool was currently holding a hand stitched quilt. It was an antique white with red lining and blue corners. In the center was thick lettering, sewn in a Brush Script font was the word _SpideyPool,_.

“SpideyPool? What's that?” Peter turned his head to the side as if that angle would help him understand the word better.

“It's our ship name!” Deadpool piped up brightly and held up the quilt even higher. It was made for a queen sized bed. Peter walked over to Wade and the quilt, running his hands along the trimming. Peter didn't think about being angry or embarrassed by the whole 'ship name' part. He was too distracted at the stunning skills Deadpool presented. That's another thing learned about the merc now. He could make a quilt. And he was pretty damn good at it. 

“Deadpool, this is amazing.” Peter spoke in awe. It surprised him really. Turns out there's a lot more to Deadpool than being a maniac and a mercenary. 

“So you like it?” Beneath his mask, there was a smile. Peter couldn't help but wonder what Deadpool's smile actually looked like.

“Yeah, it's really good. Kinda creepy, but still good.” Peter had to add in that creepy part. He almost felt obligated to. Why? Partly because it was true. Creating a ship name blanket was on the creepy side. 

“Yay!” Deadpool didn't seemed bother by it as he wrapped Peter in the blanket. It was his own fault really. Peter should have known Deadpool would have trapped him in a dense blanket hug. He was only half annoyed though, after all, Peter loved big blankets. And apparently, Deadpool loved Peter wrapped up in over sized blanket because the large man squeaked and cupped his cheeks, “You look adorable baby boy!”

Peter blushed and quickly unraveled himself from the bundle of fabric, folding it neatly into a tight square. Peter cleared his throat, “Thank you for the, uh, gift, Deadpool.” 

The merc frowned, “Why don't you have a pet name for me?” 

“Excuse me?”

“We need pet names for each other.” Deadpool clarified and walked past Peter, taking a seat on the dusty sofa. 

“Why, exactly?” Peter turned as Wade walked past so he was always facing him.

“To be cute.” Deadpool shrugged and opened a pizza box, “You are staying for pizza, aren't you?”

Peter was silent for a moment, contemplating his choices. After a rough day at work, pizza sounded pretty good. 

“Um, yeah. Thanks.” For the first time, Peter actually took the seat on the couch that Deadpool was offering him, setting his blanket on the floor, “And that's a no on the pet names.” 

“Awww.” Deadpool pouted, “You're no fun. But you know what would be fun!” It wasn't a question, and Deadpool left no time for Peter to answer either, “Video games!” Okay, admittedly, that did sound pretty fun. 

“Do you even have a gaming console?” Peter asked and lifted up his mask to his nose, taking a slice of pizza. He would have taken it off completely, considering that Deadpool already knew what he looked like, but Peter assumed it would make Wade more comfortable if he kept his mask on. So that they were both wearing their mask.

“Duh, I brought my PS3!” Deadpool got up and searched through his ammo bag again. Sure enough, he pulled out a PS3. 

“What? No PS4?” Peter teased.

Deadpool scoffed and knelt down to hook his gaming console to the TV, “No, PS4s are shit.”

“I don't think they're that bad.” Peter countered. Harry, Peter's more or less friend, had a PS4. He used a few times. 

“They're not as bad as the Xbox, I'll give you that.” Deadpool admitted then pulled out about a dozen games from his bag, “Wanna play Destiny?” 

“Play a first person shooter game against a mercenary? I don't think so.” Peter almost laughed at the ridiculousness of Deadpool's logic. As if Peter would be stupid enough to play a shooter game with a skilled killer.

“How about Super Smash Bros?” Deadpool held up another game option. Peter considered it for a moment before giving a slight nod.

“Yeah, it's fine with me.”

Wade slipped in the game then rejoined Peter on the couch, handing him a controller. Peter licked his fingers before taking the control and then another slice of pizza. After a moment of observation, Peter spoke up.

“Aren't you gonna eat?” 

Deadpool hesitated before sighing softly. He looked at Peter and his mask crinkled with a smile, and because of it, Peter couldn't tell if his smile was fake or not.

“Of course. There's never going to be a day were I pass up on pizza.” And with that Deadpool took a slice with his right hand as his left reached up and held the end of his mask. Then he hesitated again. Guilt stabbed at Peter's heart. He did it again. Wade was obviously sensitive about his mask and Peter brought it up again. He completely forgot to consider the variable that Wade would have to lift up his mask to eat. With quick thinking, Peter thought of an excuse to leave the room. 

“Hey I'm gonna go use the washroom. Don't start playing without me.” It may have been too obvious that he wanted to leave, or Peter may have left the room a little too quickly, but he just wanted to give Deadpool some privacy. He hurried to the washroom and shut the door behind him. He didn't even have to use it, so his plan was just to stay in here for a few minutes so Deadpool would have enough time to eat at least one slice in peace. But as soon as Peter entered the bathroom he realized something was off. The shower was still intact. The toilet was here. Both the washer and dryer. The sink. 

“Wait a second...where's the mirror?” Peter almost immediately knew the answer. “Wade!” 

Peter heard Deadpool's voice from the other room, “Ah shit!” And then his footsteps came running to the bathroom, halting on the other side of the door. “What's the problem sweetums?”

Peter opened the door and stared at Deadpool flatly, of course, it would have been better if his mask was off, but his scowl was at least visible, “Where the hell is the mirror?”

“Do you really wanna know?” Deadpool countered and frankly, Peter thought he had a point. 

“Let's just go play the game.” Peter huffed and hurried past the merc, who followed him by skipping merrily. Peter shook his head and chuckled lightly, “Sometimes I don't understand you Wade.”

Deadpool slung his arm around Peter and put most of his weight on him, “A friend's job isn't to understand another friend, it's to accept them.” 

“See this is what I mean!” Peter pointed out as the two of them took their seats on the couch again, “Sometimes you're sarcastic, sometimes you're serious, sometimes you're deep and meaningful. Just who exactly are you Deadpool?”

“Shhhh, hush little Spider. Follow your heart and don't ever give up on your dreams. And, most importantly, be prepared to lose!” Deadpool shouted then immediately started the game. Peter wasn't ready, so Wade definitely got an advantage at the start, “Stinky feet distraction!” Deadpool cried out suddenly and launched one of his legs in the air, shoving his foot right in Peter's face. 

“Oh gross!” Peter yelled and pushed the foot aside, though couldn't hold back a smile, “Fuck you Wade!”

“Yes please!” Wade cried in response, laughing along with Peter as the two -at the moment rather child like- boys were engulfed into their game. Each one determined to win. Neither one wishing to lose. However, there can only be one winner, and Wade ended up coming on top, “Ha! In your face Arachnid nerd! A toast, to me!” And with that Wade lifted a beer to his masked lips and took a drink. Peter stared at him, “What?”

“Are you drinking through your mask?”

“Yeah, it's liquid. It goes through the fabric. See?” Deadpool went to splash Peter's suit with his beer but his spidey-sense warned him before he could get wet. In a split second Peter shot a web to the ceiling and jumped up there while the beer soiled the couch, “Aww, no fair!”

“Ha, nice try Wade.”

“Alright alright, it was well avoided. As a victory, I will give you one of my beers.” Wade concluded as Peter came down from the ceiling. 

“Oh, I don't drink.” Peter clarified and sat back down on the couch, only realizing that he just sat in the wet spot of beer. 

“Why not?” Wade questioned, as if he couldn't possibly imagine someone not wanting to drink.

“Uh, I'm under age.” Peter answered simply, was it that big of a deal? Apparently yes, because Deadpool nearly did a spit take.

“How old are you Petey?”

“19, why? How old are you?” Peter asked, realizing that he actually never found out Deadpool's age. He couldn't be that old, could he?

“Umm, see that's the thing.” Deadpool explained, “My age was never really confirmed in this story, though it was suggested before. I'm leaving it up to the readers to decide what age they want me to be. So they can adjust the age difference to their preference.” 

Peter blinked, “Are you breaking the forth wall again or something?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

And the two boys left it at that as they started another round. And then another. And another. Before Peter knew it, the time had gone and it was approaching 1 in the morning. He also found himself losing to Deadpool 18 rounds to 7. Make that 19 rounds to 7, because Peter just lost yet again. 

“Dammit! How are you so good at this?!” Peter cried, frustrated beyond belief. 

“Ah ah ah, aren't you forgetting something?” Deadpool smirked and Peter sighed. 

“How are you so good at this Oh Supreme Sexy One.” Peter spoke flatly. After about the fifth game, they decided to make it a little more interesting. Whoever loss the round had to do something that the winner said. It started out small, like hoping on one foot for a round, or burping a Britney Spears song, but then it was getting more intense. Currently, Peter was balancing a shoe on his head and had to address Deadpool as Oh Supreme Sexy One. And as for Wade? Well he had some webs over one of his mask's eyes and was sitting upside down on the couch. Even with only one eyed vision and being upside down, he still seemed to cream Peter. 

“When I'm not busy killing or finding out ways to die, I have a lot of free time on my hands. So I have a bunch of practice.” Deadpool smiled. This is where Peter never knew if it was okay to laugh or not. Deadpool often talked about killing others or himself, and Peter didn't know if they were jokes or not. So he often focuses of a separate part of what Deadpool says or changes the subject completely.

“Okay one more round, winner takes all.”

“Which means what?” Deadpool wondered, clearly intrigued. 

“Umm,” Peter paused to think, “The loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

“Haven't we already been doing that?” 

“No, well, yes. But this is different. We owe them like a favour now. Like uh, like you have to clean the bathroom, or buy them an ice cream cone or something.” Peter explained, but telling by Wade's reaction he wasn't too convinced. 

“Lame. But I can work with it. Deciding what you'll do for me is the hard part.” Wade laughed, earning a soft chuckle from Peter too.

“Yeah right. In your dreams. I'm gonna win this one.” Peter smirked, flashing his white teeth at Wade. Normally Peter didn't like to be over confident, he learned that was bad the hard way. The only reason for his confidence was because Peter had science on his side. For every 3 games Wade won, Peter would win one. Wade won the last three, so it must be Peter's turn to win now. You can't defy logic. 

“Alright smart guy, you're on.” And then the game started. Little by little, Peter's confidence faded. Not even three minutes past before his character was obliterated by Wade's. Peter felt his heart sink as Wade jumped up and boasted, “Ooh! I crushed you! How's that for in my dreams!” He proceeded to do a victory dance, wagging his ass in Peter's face. 

“I get it, you won. Big deal.”

“Aww, is someone a sore loser?” Deadpool pouted beneath his mask then placed one hand on his hip and the other rubbed his chin, “Now, what to make you do for me. Hmm.” 

Peter groaned, this was not gonna be fun, “Just nothing overly-”

“Sex.” Deadpool interrupted before Peter could finished. But the young hero was quick to react.

“What? No!”

Deadpool pouted again and slumped on the couch. Seconds later, he perked up again, “A strip dance!”

Peter flushed, what little cheek was visible from his rolled up mask turned tomato red, “I'm not doing that.”

And thus Wade's spirits were killed yet again. He laid his head down on the couch near Peter's feet. Wade's legs dangled over the side of the armrest, the couch was much too small for the both of them. Once again Wade brightened once he thought of another idea and he rested his chin on Peter's knees that were propped up on the sofa, his back against the opposite armrest. 

“Date me?”

“Wade! I'm not gay!” Peter shouted, his entire face now turning crimson. 

“Really? You're not?” Wade sounded as if this came as a shock.

“No!” Peter shouted again, “Are you?”

“No, I'm Pan. Oh! You must be bi then.” Wade concluded, appearing pleased with himself, “Aren't you?”

Peter suddenly felt very flustered, “W-well, I mean, I-'m, err...”

“Aww, is my baby boy confused about his sexuality? So young and innocent.” 

“I'm not confused about my sexuality!” Peter defended himself, “It's just that I never thought about it before.” Lame excuse, but partly true. 

“Do your parents force heteronormativity on you? It's okay sweetums, just embrace who you truly are.” Deadpool grabbed Peter's hands and held them. For a moment, even with their masks, Peter could have sworn him and Wade locked eyes. 

“I'll have you know that my _dads_ are perfectly accepting of whatever partner I'll have.” Peter made sure to put emphasis on Dads, trying to get his point across indirectly. 

“Great! Then they'll approve of our relationship!” Deadpool squeezed Peter's hands tighter, grinning beneath his mask.

“Deadpool stop! We're not in a relationship!” Peter yanked his hands away and crossed his arms, making sure Wade couldn't grab them again.

“Okay, fine. Here's my final offer. Kiss me.”

For some reason, out of everything Deadpool had suggested in the past minute, this one caught Peter off guard. Maybe it's because he sounded genuine. Deadpool often joked around, pissing Peter off every now and then, but this request seemed so real. So...do-able. Kissing wasn't that big of deal. And, as Peter considered his options, he found that this was probably the better one. It was far better than a strip tease. 

“Fine.” Peter tilted his chin up, trying to keep whatever dignity he had left, “I'll kiss you.” Peter reached up and went for Wade's mask. Just as his fingertips grazed the edge of it, Wade grabbed Peter's wrists. 

“What are you doing?” Wade breathed, his grip flexing 

“How am I suppose to kiss you with your mask on?” Peter pointed out but Deadpool just continue to stare at him. 

“You were gonna...on my lips?” Now Deadpool was acting weird, well, weirder than usual, “I just meant on the...” Wade's voice faded out as one of his hands released Peter's wrist. Deadpool pointed to his cheek and the realization washed over Peter. He felt like he was just with a brick. A brick of embarrassment. Deadpool meant a kiss on the cheek. And Peter was about to plant one on his lips. Well Shit. 

“Umm I-” Peter gulped, “I should go.” He scrambled away from Wade, causing the merc to face plant on the couch since he was leaning on Peter's knees. Peter fell off the back armrest of the sofa but quickly stood up, grabbing his blanket off the floor and cleared his throat, “It's getting late. I'll see you tomorrow night.” Peter turned and went for his exit, the window. 

“Spidey wait!” Deadpool called after him and Peter halted, though he didn't turn around to face Wade who was now standing right behind him.

“Yes, Wade?” Peter rocked back and forth on his heels, staring at the cars below. 

“You were seriously gonna kiss me on the...” Wades voice trailed off yet again, it was kinda pissing Peter off. He sighed angrily. 

“Yes, Deadpool. I was gonna kiss you the lips!” Peter turned around in a huff of anger, “Why is that such a big-” Peter got cut off. He wasn't able to finish his sentence because something else blocked his mouth. Wade was kissing him. He had rolled up some of his mask and caught Peter off his guard. Peter staggered back but Wade persisted, their mouths never losing contact. Peter gripped the windowsill and Wade wrapped one of his arms around the small of Peter's back. Time ticked by. How long? Peter didn't know. Seconds, minutes, it made no different. All Peter could concentrate on was the warmth of Wade's mouth and the fact that he was kissing Wade back. But however long the kiss lasted, it wasn't long enough. Wade pulled away and immediately pulled down his mask again. Peter didn't get a glimpse of his face. The two of them were left panting.

“We're going investigating tomorrow night right Spidey?” Deadpool chirped as if nothing happened. This left Peter dazed and it took him a minute or two to reply.

“Um, y-yeah.”

“Great! We'll meet on the roof.” Deadpool smiled and turned Peter around when he wasn't doing it himself. He reached around Peter's body and opened the window, “Toodles Spidey-widey.”

“Right...bye.” It was like Peter was stuck in a trance. He didn't move a muscle. This gave Deadpool an idea. He leaned against Peter and whispered in his ear.

“Unless you wanna stay for more.” 

This snapped Peter out of it. He pushed Deadpool away, “Get off of me pizza breath. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Deadpool chuckled and called out after Peter once he swung out the window, “Whatever you say Web-head!” 

Peter rolled his eyes are he swung his way home. 

 

And now, a brief look inside Peter's head as he swinging his way back home.

_Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me. Wade kissed me._

Back to our regularly scheduled program 

Peter climbed back into Stark tower using the windows this time. His head was so full of thoughts that he almost didn't notice his parents waiting for him in the darkness of the living room. In fact, Peter walked straight pass them, taking off his mask in the process.

“Peter.” That was Tony's stern voice. But Peter didn't care. He kept walking, keeping his gaze of the floor, “Peter turn around right now.” Peter paused in the hall's entrance. He made no further movements. 

“Peter, your father is talking to you.” Steve spoke this time, also using his stern voice. Peter turned around and locked eyes with both of his parents for a split second. Clearly distressed. 

“I-” Peter choked, he couldn't speak. It felt like there was something inside his chest, squeezing his heart so it couldn't beat, crushing his lungs so he couldn't breath. Peter was getting so worked up that his bottom lip started to quiver. Both his dads blinked at him with concern. Tony spoke first, his voice now soft.

“Peter...are you alright?” 

Steve spoke next, his voice had also gone soft, “What happened?” 

Peter's opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He turned back around and sprinted to his bedroom. Steve and Tony exchanged a glance before running after their son. Although he knew it would do him no good, Peter locked his bedroom door. Both Steve or Tony could easily break the door down, but it at least gave Peter a false sense of security. Not shortly after Peter had slid to the floor, his dads came knocking on his door.

“Peter, sweetie, are you hurt?” Steve asked and jiggled the knob, “Please let us in Peter.” 

“Steve.” Tony cut in and set a hand on his husband's shoulder. Steve rested his head on his son's door, “He just wants to be alone.”

Peter was thankful for his dad at that moment. Tony always knew when Peter wanted to be left alone, and when it was time to talk. Steve had a caring nature, and often wanted to help Peter, but sometimes he was too motherly. Peter laid his head back on his door once he heard his fathers walk away. He ran his fingers through the mess of his hair and sighed deeply. 

“Why the hell am I freaking out?” Peter asked aloud to himself, almost chuckling sadly in the process. He didn't think kissing Deadpool would be a big deal. Apparently he was wrong. It was just a kiss though. Yes, it was by surprise. And yes, it was slightly intense. But why Peter felt like curling up and hiding forever? He hasn't the slightest clue. All he knew was that he could still feel Wade's lips against his own. It felt toxic. Maybe he was freaking out because Peter hasn't kissed anyone since Gwen. They were Exes now, but him and Gwen use to date, and young naive Peter dared to call it love. But they broke things off because his Spiderman duties were getting in the way. Between his job, his family life, and being Spiderman, he had had barely anytime for relationships. That statement is still true to this day. So they broke up. Don't get him wrong, Peter and Gwen still saw each other from time to time. Him, Gwen, and Harry would sometimes meet up for a coffee. Those guys are the closest thing Peter has to friends. And they all agreed that's all they'll ever be.

Peter exhaled deeply and hoisted himself up off the ground. He took off his Spidey suit and lazily slumped into his bed. With Wade's gift still in hand, Peter unfolded it and wrapped himself up like a burrito. The blanket smelt like Wade. Peter found an odd sense of comfort in that. He smiled softly and closed his eyes. It was clear to see that now Wade was becoming the closest thing Peter has to a friend. And that's all he was ever going to be. 

A friend. 

Yeah right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha. Gaaaay!


	7. Chapter 6

[What the fuck were you thinking!?]

{I sense a pattern here. Spidey likes us, he hates us, he's liking us again, and now he's gonna fucking hate thanks to no brain over here.}

“You guys just insulted yourselves.” Wade pointed out, still standing in the empty space Spidey use to be in. His swinging silhouette disappeared in the late night sky. Deadpool could only imagine where Spiderman was going, probably back home, but where the hell did he live? 

[Back to the problem please.]

“Oh right, uh, what problem?” Wade scratched his head, sometimes he really did feel brainless. 

[You kissed Spiderman! Like, full out lip smacking goodness.]

{It was a nice kiss.}

Wade chuckled, remembering the kiss that happened just minutes ago, “Yeah, it was nice.”

[You probably freaked him out.]

{What? We'd freak out the awkward super hero nerd? Never!}

[You're suppose to be sarcastic with him, not me.]

“Guys, stop bickering for a sec.” Wade said and, to his surprise, the boxes listened. They fell silent. Wade had to do some serious thinking. Did he really step out of line with Peter? Cause Spidey was totally gonna kiss him first. 

[Because you made him.]

“But I just meant on the cheek! He was willingly gonna kiss me on the lips.” Wade defended, but in the back of his mind, and in his thoughts boxes, they knew it wasn't true.

[There's a difference between willingly and thinking he had to.]

{Plus could you imagine what it's like to kiss us?}

Despite his gut telling him not to, Wade asked anyway, “Why?”

{Our entire face is in desperate need of chap-stick.}

“Oh.” That was the answer Wade was expecting, but still, sometimes his boxes could be a little harsh, “So now that we discussed it was a bad idea to kiss Spidey with our ugly mug, what's next?”

[We could actually try to sleep for once.]

Wade didn't need to ponder this thought. He immediately decided against it. It's not like he needed to sleep anyway. Since his cells constantly repair themselves, he doesn't need that from rest. Besides, he couldn't remember the last time he tried to sleep and didn't have any nightmares. Sleep was just not an option anymore.

{You know, the lab we're investigating with Spidey isn't too far away.}

“Are you suggesting that we sneak out during the middle of the night, go to the lab, and investigate behind our baby boy's back?”

{Yes. That's exactly what I'm suggesting. We might find more information about Weapon-X}

Wade cocked his eyebrow, staring into space doubtingly. It's not like he could physically stare at his thought boxes.

“This is just a way to further the plot, isn't it?” 

{Of course it is, dumbass.}

Deadpool shrugged, “Good enough for me.” He leaped out the window and landed on the ground with a thud, “Ha, even I can do superhero landings!” He spoke to himself, a habit that Wade would probably never get rid of. Especially since himself often answered back. 

For once the streets of New York were quiet. They're often crowded with traffic, no matter the time of day. Even for a run down place like this neighborhood, it was quiet. Deadpool could swear that you could hear the faint buzz of each flickering street lamp. It sent chills down his spine. The scene was set up exactly like a horror movie. 

[Except we're the monster.]

{Damn straight.}

Deadpool had no comment this time. If he did say anything, his thought boxes would just pry on. And he really didn't like being compared to a monster in a horror film, however true it might be. It didn't take long for him to reach the abandon lab, and for the first time Deadpool noticed a sign above the entrance. The paint was chipped and the letters were faded, although still readable. _NYC Veterinarian Quarters._

{Is that important to the story?}

[No, it's just so that there's another name to use instead of 'the lab']

Deadpool entered the Vet's, taking one of his guns out of its protective pouch. Just in case there was someone in here, he wanted to be prepared. Would Wade actually kill the guy? He had no fucking clue. He promised Spidey no killing, but on the other hand, he'd be stopping a bad guy. It's okay to kill someone if they're a bad guy right?

{Who cares?}

“Spidey does.” Deadpool pointed out, now walking through the darkness of the hall, “At moments like this I could really use a spidey-sense.” He muttered as he paused at the door to the room with the caged animals. If Wade had a spidey-sense then he'd be able to sense danger. He would already know if there was anyone in the building. 

{Do we go in there?}

Wade eyed the cabinet through the door's window, “No, we already searched in there.”

[Are you afraid of the drugs?]

Deadpool stayed silent, somehow thinking he would be able to trick his own brain.

{Pussy.}

“Hey! Vulgar language much. And no, I'm not afraid. I just wanna explore the rest of the hall.” Wade defended himself. He was getting tired of the need to justify his own actions to his brain. Deadpool continued down the hall. On the night him and Spidey explored this crazy place, they didn't have the time to see all the rooms. Partly because Deadpool ran away, and partly because the hall was painted so thick with darkness that neither of them could see any other room. So now Wade was determined to find something else. This building couldn't consist of only a waiting room and a testing lab. It was suppose to be a vet's office. Where were the doctors' offices?

{Do vets have offices?}

“Yeah...I think. Pets have appointments and stuff.”

[Keep in mind, this is a run down place. Maybe the reason why they didn't make it in the business was because they didn't have enough space.]

“Alright, fair enough. Jesus, how long is this-” Wade smacked into a wall; there was no need to complete is sentence now, “Wait, a dead end?”

[That's what it looks like]

“It can't be a dead end! Who the hell has a hallway that leads to nothing?!” Wade shouted and gesture to the wall as if to prove his point. To whom he was proving it to? There was no answer. Deadpool just liked to talk with his hands. Maybe he's part French.

{Oh! Look for a secret entrance or traps or something.}

Wade snapped his fingers upon dawning on the realization, “Good idea!” He looked from side to side, the walls were bare and narrow. The floor was warn out wooden planks. Point is, the hall's naked, “Uh I don't see anything.” 

[Look down.]

“Why would I look down?” Wade asked the question in the process of tilting his head towards the floor. Beneath his feet was a rug. The same tacky one like in the waiting room, “Oh. Suspicious yet conveniently place.” He kicked aside the rug, but beneath it was not what Deadpool expected. Instead of a trap door, there was a single golden key.

{The key to the door?}

“No.” Deadpool scratched his head, “That was an automatic lock, remember? They don't use these kind of keys.” Wade bent down and picked up the key, examining it in his hand, “But then where does it lead to?” He pondered for a moment. Long dark hall. Suspicious rug. Key. Wait, the rug. Wade gasped, “To the waiting room!” He dashed through black, past the door, past receptionist desk, and into the waiting room. Deadpool lifted up the tacky rug and there beneath it was a door, “Bingo.”

{We totally just pulled a Nancy Drew!}

“Nancy Drew? Really? Not, you know, Sherlock fucking Holmes?”

[We're you're brain remember? You thought of it.]

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Deadpool waved his boxes off dismissively. He unlocked the hatch on the door and opened it. What it revealed came with no surprise, “Ah, dark creepy stairs leading to a secret basement. Classic.” Deadpool hummed as he marched downwards. With each step a creak followed along with a cloud of dust. The stairs were used recently though. Wade could tell because of the faded footprints on the steps in the outline of the dust. The walls were made of concrete and had flickering lights plastered to it. Like those lights caged within metals bars and shit. The real creepy kind. When the steps came to a stop, they lead into a large room. The basement. And this time Wade was surprised by its contents. 

“What the dickle pickle...” Deadpool gaped in awe and flicked on the light switch. Now he got a better view of what the room contained. The walls and floor, much like the stairwell, were concrete. Cracked and growing weird green stuff near the trims. Near the center of the room was one of those crappy fold out tables, papers were spewed all across it. On the wall behind Wade were shelves. A dozen of them maybe. They were all filled with more test tubes containing the stress drug. Wade turned around and read the labels, each one said Failed in big bold letters then in a smaller print what was wrong with them. **Failed:** _Death_ **Failed:** _Extreme vomiting_ **Failed:** _Blindness._ Wade ran along the entity of the wall, reading the labels as quickly as possible. **Failed:** _No reaction_ **Failed:** _No improvement_ **Failed:** _Produces extreme odor._ Wade tried to make sense of each vile. Why was there so many tests on the same drug? 

[They're trying to perfect it]

“But why?” 

[Turn around.]

Wade did. And that's when he saw them. Three giant cork boards lined up against the back wall. There were hundreds of pictures on each one, strings tied around push pins, relating each picture to something else. There were sticky notes with scribbling on them and files pinned to the boards. But what shocked Deadpool the most was the middle board; in the center was a picture of him. He cautiously approached the board and observed it. There must of been about a dozen pictures of him, all at different angles. Some in his Deadpool costume, some out of it. But what Wade noticed was that the pictures where he wasn't wearing his costume were taken before he got his scars. Before Weapon-X. And the only person who would have these photos is Weapon-X themselves. 

[Alright everyone, cover your virgin ears.]

“Shit! Shit! Fuck! Fucking shit ass bitch!” Deadpool cried a bunch of vulgarities, lashing about angrily, “How the fuck did they get here!?”

{A plane?}

“Not the fucking time!” Deadpool huffed, trying to regain his composure. He really didn't need sarcasm right now. Sometimes being a smart ass wasn't always a good thing. Wade turned his attention back to the board dedicated to him. He tore off the sticky notes, reading each one. 

Note 1: Horribly Scarred . Note 2: Escaped Weapon-X . Note 3: Is the mercenary Deadpool

Note 4: Name is Wade Wilson .Note 5: Healing Factor 

They were all to do with him. The last few notes were all about his experience in Weapon-X. Each torture device he went through, every drug he got tested on. All of it. Wade skipped through those. He didn't want to relive the experience. He tossed all the notes on the ground then read the files. They were all his files. His past, his records, everything, “Those bastards are tracking me!” Wade shouted, still skimming through each paper. He noticed something peculiar. Sure they had his records, every job he had done, but they were all old. Outdated by at least six months. 

“This is a good sign, right?”

[Yeah. It means they don't know where we've been in the past six months.]

“So maybe they don't know we're here? Where were we six months ago?” Deadpool tried to remember, but his thought boxes were quicker.

{We were back in Canada. With Bob I think.}

[Speaking of Bob, look.]

Deadpool looked back up at the board. Only now did he notice that surrounding his pictures, there were more pictures, this time not of him. The photos consisted of everyone he'd ever had any kind of relationship with. Good, bad, and other. There was Bob, Weasel, Taskmaster, Blind Al, everyone. Their photos, however, had giant black Xs over them. 

“Are they dead?”

[Unlikely, they were probably just targeted. You know, interviewed to find our your location. It's probably how they've been tracking you all these years.]

“The little bastards ratted me out!” Deadpool cried, feeling an odd sense of betrayal. 

{On the bright side, Spidey isn't there.}

This seemed to have calmed Wade a little bit. The last thing he wanted was for his little Petey-Pie to get hunted down by Weapon-X. So they didn't know about his relations to Spiderman. That was a good thing. 

[There's still two more boards.] 

“Oh right, on it.” Deadpool walked over to the left board. This one was filled with animals, like the ones from the lab upstairs. Once again, sticky notes had writing on them. Each one with different test results and how the drug affected the animal. The board on the right was even more disturbing than the other two. It was covered with random people, and more sticky notes with more test results. Wade came to the realization soon enough, “Test subjects. Human test subjects.” 

{But what do these people have to do with you?}

“No idea, but this is beyond creepy.” Deadpool noted. Now he knew how Spiderman felt when he revealed how he was tracking his spidey ass all over New York. But Weapon-X had been chasing Deadpool for years, wanting to recruit him since he was young. He had no clue why though, no one did. Wade ran for the most of it. Ran from Weapon-X, ran from life. He tried to kill himself at 18 to escape before Weapon-X reached him, but he failed. Then he joined the military, but Weapon-X always found him. He was eventually recruited and well, it's all in his origin story. Point is, Weapon-X was after Wade for years, and they're still after him. Why? Deadpool has yet to figure that out. Obviously not to kill him, they know he can't die. Why else would Weapon-X want him again? To sell? Yeah right, like that would ever work.

{Ugh, there's too much thinking in this chapter. We gotta let this info soak in.}

[I agree.]

“Alright, we'll head back to the apartment. We're going investigating with Spidey tomorrow night anyway.” On that note, Deadpool left the building. He cleaned up the room the best he could and put the key bag beneath the rug. Now Wade was heading home, and despite having cleaned up the place, there was no way he left with a clean mind. His thought boxes remained quiet as thought after thought passed through his head. And at every corner, Wade would glance over his shoulder just to make sure no one was following him. Now he knew Weapon-X recruiters were somewhere in New York, hunting for their next victims and possibly for Deadpool himself. Could you blame a guy for being paranoid? When Wade got home, he made sure that all doors and windows were locked. He'd be taking no chances tonight. 

{I've got a question, are we gonna tell Spidey about this?}

Deadpool paused. He didn't have an answer. Half of him wanted to tell his sweetums because they were partners in crime. And Wade felt like they really bonded over the past few days. He didn't want to ruin that kind of relationship. On the other hand though, Wade didn't want Spidey to get involved. He didn't need to. Wade wanted to keep Peter as far away from Weapon-X as possible. 

[A little possessive are we?]

Yes. Very possessive. Wade felt this need to protect Peter. So the question still remained unanswered. 

What the fuck was he suppose to tell Spiderman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot. Fluff to come later on. I promise. Trust me. :)


	8. Chapter 7

“I can't believe it Wade! It's been nearly two weeks and we've found nothing!” Peter vented, frustrated with both himself and the world. For the past week, week and a half, him and Deadpool have been coming to this lab and going on patrol. Between the two, patrols were always more successful. And those always just consisted of beating up bad guys. Just minor super hero stuff. Amateur stuff! This is not what Peter wanted. Then again, lately Peter hasn't been sure what he wants. About a week ago, Deadpool had kissed him. Like, really kissed him. But other than the night of the kiss, it's never been mentioned again. Maybe Peter was just paranoid, or thinks too much, or both. But he's been thinking about that kiss ever since it happened. Peter already came to the conclusion that it meant nothing to Wade. He probably kisses everybody all the time. And that pissed Peter off, though he would never truly admit that to himself. Peter spent days trying to convince himself that the kiss meant nothing to him. But with every night that he would see Deadpool, and that was quite often, it got harder and harder to deny it. Now wasn't the time to think about it though, they were on a mission.

“Don't get discouraged baby boy, I'm sure there's something around here.” Deadpool offered his condolences as the two of them filed through the room with the caged animals for the 100th time in one evening. It was always the same stuff, always the same results. It was as if this stuff was just placed here as a decoy, never to be touched or moved. But that couldn't be the case, could it?

Another thing Peter has notice since the kiss night was that Deadpool was acting different. Not so much towards him, but just in general. He was still flirty, and awfully touchy (though Peter was getting use to it). Deadpool's humour never faltered. But there was something off about him every time they came to the lab. He always seemed a little too loud, or a little too quiet, or a little bit too in need to call it a night. Naturally, this raised suspicions in Peter's mind. He wanted to pry, but every time he looked at Wade, he'd be reminded of the kiss. Yup, Peter was over thinking this. 

“Um, Wade?” Peter spoke without purpose, he better think of something quick.

“Yes sweetie?” Wade hummed happily, skipping his way to Peter's side. He was standing in the doorway, looking down the hall.

“Are you sure there's nothing down there?” Peter felt Wade tense beside him. Maybe he is hiding something.

“Yeah, I told you it's just a dead end. There's nothing there. Zilch. Nothing. Nada.” Wade answered a little too quickly with too much reassurance. He was definitely up to something. 

“Let's go search again, just in case you missed something.” Peter claimed and started to walk down the hall. Deadpool hurried behind him, hovering over his shoulder. Peter could smell Wade, he was that close, it reminded Peter of his blanket. He fought off a blush.

“I really don't see a need to do that Spidey-widey. We should just turn around.” It was like Deadpool was trying to make it obvious that he was hiding something. It was like this all week, only now did Peter get fed up. He suddenly stopped walking, making Deadpool bump into him then stumble a few steps back. Peter turned to face the merc, taking off his mask to give Wade one of his famous glares that made him melt like puddy in Peter's hands. 

“Are you hiding something from me Wade?” Peter demanded more so than asked. Deadpool rocked back and forth on his heals, something he does whenever he's nervous. Peter learnt that quickly. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” It was a long shot, but Deadpool took it anyway.

“No.” Peter answered flatly and Deadpool sighed, his shoulders sinking with defeat. 

“Alright, confession time. I uh, I actually came here a few nights ago and explored. And I, well I found something that you might wanna see.” 

Anger sparked in Peter's stomach, “And why didn't you tell me?”

Wade sighed again, not daring to meet Peter's gaze, “Because I didn't want you to see it. But it's this way, come on.” Deadpool grabbed Peter's wrist and lead him down the hall. It came to a dead end, so Deadpool was telling the truth, partly. Wade lifted up a rug and picked up a key then lead Peter back down the hall and into the waiting room. Peter followed in silence, slipping his mask back on as Wade unlocked a secret door from beneath the rug. 

“Where does this lead to?” Peter asked as the two of them crept down the steps. 

“The basement.” Deadpool answered simply then came to a stop at the bottom of the steps. He radiated nerves. So Wade was feeling a little scared, Peter wondered why. And when Wade spoke, his tone sounded a little darker, “Are you sure you wanna see this?”

“Of course! If it'll lead us to some clues. Oh, remind me to be angry at you for this later.” Peter teased, relieved when he earned a half hearted chuckled from Wade. Sure it was half hearted, but it was at least something. 

“Heh...sure.” Wade stepped down from the last step and let Peter enter the room. Peter was astonished, left speechless.

“Holy shit.” He said after a moment of taking in the whole room. The three cork boards, the table, the shelves, everything, “Wade, do you know what this is?” 

Deadpool strode over to the cork boards, Peter followed, “If I could direct your attention to cork board number 1.” Deadpool went on to explain each one of them. Peter listened with amazed horror. The animal testing, the results. The cork board about Wade and Weapon-X. And lastly, the cork board about presumably future victims. Peter blinked.

“Wow, this is uh...wow.” 

“Yeah.” Wade rocked back and forth.

“So, wait. Let me get this straight. Weapon-X is chasing you, so you came to New York. And now turns out Weapon-X is here and is hunting people down. I get that part. But, why are they still after you?” Peter asked only one of his many questions. 

“That's the thing, I don't have a fucking clue.” Wade answered, still rocking on his heals.

Peter didn't have anything to say to that. Instead, he stared at the cork board basically dedicated to Wade. He couldn't take his eyes off of the pictures that Wade had no mask on. Peter took one down from the board, “Is this you?” It was a stupid question, Peter already knew the answer. 

“Yeah, that's me.” Wade confirmed, looking at the picture with Peter. He suddenly sensed that Wade was feeling sad, or at the very least resentful. After a moment, Peter understood why, “Well, that's me before Weapon-X happened. Now I look like shit.”

“I'm sure you're still just as attractive.” The words left Peter's mouth before he could stop them. Immediately he regretted it and became flustered, “I mean- no wait- that's not- shit.”

Deadpool grinned and took the picture from Peter, proceeding to wave it in his face, “You think I was attractive? Hmm?”

“That's not what I said Wade!” Peter uselessly tried to defend himself, snatching the picture from Deadpool's grasp and pinning it back on the board. 

“It is what you said and you know it.” Wade gloated then slung one of his arm behind Peter's shoulders and the other across his chest, linking his fingers together so Peter couldn't escape. In all reality, if Peter really wanted to, he could easily push Deadpool away from him, he did have super strength after all. But Peter liked to keep his powers on the down low. This was, until Deadpool added, “How about a kiss?” Now Peter pushed Wade away from him.

“Let's just focus on our mission. Find these people before Weapon-X does, and figure why they want you.” Peter concluded then started to rummage through the papers on the table. The only part of this room Wade hadn't inspected yet. 

“Wait, really?” Deadpool came to stand beside Peter. Shock was radiating off of him. 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“You mean...you're not mad?” At Wade's words, Peter turned his head.

“Why would I be mad? These are some great clues. We're finally getting somewhere.” It wasn't completely a lie. There were great clues, and they are finally on to something, that part was true. And even the part that Peter said he wasn't mad. He found that there was no use in getting mad at Deadpool because in the end, Peter would always forgive him. So no, he wasn't mad. Hurt on the other hand? He couldn't quite tell. Something tug inside of him at the thought that Wade didn't want to show him all this. Peter tells himself it's because that there's innocent lives at stake. 

“Do I have to answer that? I feel like if I answer that I'll point out everything on why you should be pissed.” Despite Wade seriously asking this question, Peter couldn't help but laugh. 

“No, lets just leave it at that you finally showed me. I mean, there's an entire cork board dedicated to you, that's creepy. I understand why you wouldn't want anyone to see this.” Peter did his best to reassure Wade and even gave him a slight nudge. Deadpool beamed. 

“You're really amazing, you know that?” Deadpool nudged him back, for once not over doing it with the affection. 

“Heh, they don't call me the amazing Spiderman for nothing.” Peter paused. And he hesitated. Peter wanted to say something more, but he didn't quite know what. It's not that he hated the silence, but he didn't want to stop talking to Deadpool. To stop smiling, “Now help me look through all these papers.” Lame. Peter wanted to slap himself. He killed the conversation.

The two of them rummaged through the countless papers upon the desk. A lot of them were just random files on random people. Nothing extremely helpful, no locations as to where they were, nothing. Peter moved onto the next stack of papers, these were different from the rest. They weren't files, but something else. Before Peter had time to properly read what the papers said, he noticed something beneath the stack. A phone. 

“Wade, check it out.” In an instant, Deadpool was hovering over Peter's shoulder. 

“A cup full of ice water?” Wade questioned and Peter looked up. There was, in fact, a paper cup full of water on the table. 

“No, the phone.” Peter pointed then carefully picked up the phone. He turned it on, but of course the screen was locked. It did, however, display a few messages. The first one was of no interest nor help. The phone just needed a system update. The second message on the phone caught Peter's attention, “Last call, 12 minutes ago.” 

“12 minutes ago?” Wade echoed. As if at the same time, the two of them came to the same realization. The fresh ice in the cup of water. The phone that was used 12 minutes ago. It was obvious. They weren't alone.

“Wade, we gotta get outta here now!” Peter shouted and Wade nodded in agreement, grabbing Peter's wrist as the two dashed for the door. Although before they barely took two steps, they realized it was already too late. Someone was standing in the stairway. 

“Not so fast.” The man blocking the way had a deep voice. He was tall and wearing a mask to cover most of his face, only his eyes were visible. The guns in his hands were also visible. Wade and Peter paused, slowly backing up until they hit the corner of the room. The man did not move.

“Not so fast? Really?” Deadpool challenged, only making the situation worse, “That's a bit cliché don't you think?” 

“Wade.” Peter whispered, gritting his teeth, “What the hell are you doing?” Behind his back, Wade hushed him with a wave of his hand. Did he have a plan? Then Wade subtly gestured to his gun attached to his belt. That answered Peter's question, 

“Like seriously, that's fucking lame.”

“I'll fucking shoot you Wade!” So this man knew who Deadpool was, Peter wondered if it was vise-versa as well. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about it though. Peter slowly inched closer to Deadpool, needing to grab his gun for him. 

“Go ahead, you know it won't be effective anyway. But before you do, at least come up with a better punchline buddy.” Deadpool kept talking. It was his specialty. Peter took another small step closer to the merc. Almost there.

“Good point.” The man chuckled darkly, “If you don't shut up and cooperate, then I'll shoot him instead.” Peter froze, now fully aware the gun was being pointed at him. A brief moment of silence passed before Wade spoke, his tone suddenly sounding somber.

“You really don't wanna do that.” 

“Watch me.” 

This was his moment. Now or never. Peter dove the rest of the distance between him and Wade, grabbing his gun and quickly handing it to him. That's when Peter heard the gunshot, and he knew for a fact that it didn't come from Wade's gun. Peter knew that the man shot at him, but he never felt the bullet. In fact, the only thing he felt was being slammed into the corner of the room, and a strong pair of arms wrapping around his body. It was Wade. 

“W-Wade?” Peter barely had time to stutter out Deadpool's name before another round of bullets were being shot. None of which hit Peter. Wade was shielding his body. All Peter could do was count of the bullets in his head. _6...7..._ He felt useless _...10...11_ Wade was getting hurt and Peter was doing nothing. _...14...15._

“My- my gun.” Wade grunted beneath his breath. With lightening speed, Peter reached for Wade's other gun attached to his belt. This time he carefully placed the gun in Deadpool's hand. And with a shaky arm, Deadpool lifted his gun, shifted Peter in his grasp so he would still be protected, and shot the man behind him. A single bullet straight to the head. The man collapsed on the floor, dying almost instantly. Wade released Peter and dropped his gun, both his hands were now on the wall to support his weight. 

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Peter spoke so quickly that he could barely make sense of his own words. 15 bullets. Deadpool was just hit with 15 bullets, “Wade are you- why did you- oh my god- Wade I'm-” Peter couldn't decide on what to say first, but he eventually shut up when Deadpool started to violently cough. Something started to drip from his mask. Wait blood. That was blood. Wade was coughing up blood, “Wade!” Peter cried, fighting off that dreaded lump that threatened to rise in his throat. He cupped Wades cheeks without purpose, trying to wipe away the blood that was staining the merc's mask. 

Wade's head slumped against Peter's shoulders as his knees buckled. Peter was in such a panic that he didn't know what to do, though he did manage to catch Wade before he fell. And that's when Peter saw it. The back of Deadpool's suit was torn and a few shades of red darker. Each bullet hole a new tear. But what really got Peter the most was seeing three bullet wounds to the back of Wade's head. It was a miracle that Wade didn't instantly die. Wait, his breathing. Peter noticed that Wade stopped breathing. He allowed the two of them to sink to the floor, now Peter's hands were hovering over Deadpool's body, scared that if he touches him he'll break. Peter then checked Wade's pulse. It was hard to tell through his mask, but Peter couldn't feel anything.

“Shit Wade, d-don't do this to me.” That's when Peter broke. He started to cry. And if there's one thing that should be known about Peter is that he hates crying. It makes him feel small and weak. Like he's helpless. And in this particular situation? He was. Big boys weren't suppose to cry. But Peter did cry, even fighting back sobs as he cradled Wade's upper body, “Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead.” Peter begged as if Wade could hear him. He was talking like Wade would wake up at any moment. This all felt like a big joke. However, the joke was in no way funny. But Peter kept waiting, and waiting. Wondering if Wade's healing factor could heal him from this. Can Wade come back from the dead? Peter prayed that it was so. But no matter how hard he cried or how much he pleaded Wade to wake up. Deadpool never moved. Deadpool never woke up. Peter was actually starting to believe that Wade Wilson was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else catch that Megamind reference??? 
> 
> Also thanks for 100 Kudos my peeps


	9. Chapter 8

“Fucking hell.” Deadpool cursed as he stood up. He was surrounded by a familiar darkness that he knows all too well. 

{Are we dead?}

“For now? Yeah, looks like it.” Wade confirmed then tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck, “Damn, my neck is killing me.”

{Pun intended?}

“Always.” Deadpool smiled but did not make any further movements.

[Aren't we gonna go?]

“Go where?”

[Find Death, like we always do. She has to be around here somewhere.]

{Maybe Death will finally let us stay down here for good.}

Wade rubbed his neck and rocked back and forth on his heals, “Um...nah.”

[What?]

“I think I'm good. I'm just gonna let my healing factor do its thing this time.”

{Ha, that's a good one. Now seriously lets go find Death. She's never that far away.}

“No, I'm serious this time.” Wade persisted, a little confused on how he could know something that his brain doesn't.

{...}

[...]

“Aww c'mon guys. Don't be like that.”

{I feel like I don't know you anymore. Since when do we not wanna die!?}

Deadpool cringed. He never thought admitting something to himself would be so hard, “Since...since..”

[Since Spiderman came along.]

“That's not-!” Wade hesitated to complete his sentence, “-entirely false.”

{You're fucking with us. Tell me you're joking.}

“I'm not.” He answered simply, hoping to sound stern. There's not a lot of things that could break Wade down. But he could definitely break himself down.

[He's a bad influence for us. Or rather, we're a bad influence for him.]

{Didn't we tell you not to get attached?}

“I mean, yes, but-”

[You might as well forget about Peter now. He's never going to like us like you want to. We're a killer.]

“Hey! I haven't killed anyone in-” Wade paused, remembering what happened mere minutes before his 'death.' He killed that man that was trying to kill Spidey. Shit. Spidey was not gonna be happy. 

[Forget. It.]

Wade sighed. Maybe his boxes did have a point. He was no good for Peter. Sweet, innocent Peter. But how did they expect him to give up his baby boy?

{It's not that you have to give him up. Just don't get attached to the idea that he might-}

“I get it!” Wade snapped, interrupting his yellow thought box, if that was even possible. Light started to filter through the black, drawing Wade's attention to it. That was his cue, “Oh, looks like we're waking up.”

[How long have we been out?]

{Who knows.}

Soon after, the entire darkness filled with light. And when it's at the point of blinding Wade, his eyes open. He expected to be back at the Vet's place. Cold and on the concrete floor, waking to the familiar smell of blood. But instead, he wakes up to warmth and comfort. Something soft. Wade realizes that it's his apartment. He's laying on his couch, wrapped up in a blanket. And then he notices something. Sitting on the floor hugging his knees, was Peter. And Peter, well, he was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short chapter, so if y'alls are good, there might be a surprise come tomorrow. Maybe. I'm not that dependable and I don't wanna promise anything I can't keep. So a real big maybe. 
> 
> Anyways.
> 
> Happy Holidays.


	10. Chapter 9

The scene kept replaying over and over again in Peter's mind. The way they were pressed into the corner of the room. The way Wade immediately tossed his gun aside; instead of shooting the man right off the bat, he decided to shield Peter's body instead. Protecting him. And then the way Wade slumped against Peter's shoulder. At that moment, Peter suddenly took notice of every single detail, as if the world from that point on was in slow motion. Collapsing to the ground. Screaming Wade's name. The blood staining the floor. And finally, the way Wade's normally strong heart beat had stopped. It was at that moment when Peter snapped out of his trance. He knew he had to get out of there. He had to bring Wade somewhere. He knew hospitals were off limits, and for a brief minute Peter considered bringing Wade back to Stark tower. In the end, with no other options, Peter had brought Wade back to the apartment, setting the large man's body on the sofa delicately. Wade was anything but delicate. And that's how Peter got here, sitting on the living room floor. Waiting. His mask was off and his knees were held a little too tightly against his chest. Peter thought somehow, in some way, if he put enough pressure on his chest, he could keep his heart from breaking. Peter's sobs were muffled by his knees. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop crying.

“Peter?” At the sound of the horsed voice, it was like Peter's body had been doused in ice water. Hearing the voice and feeling the movement on the couch chilled Peter to the bone. He dared to turn his head. There he was, Wade, in the process of sitting up. Peter didn't know which feeling was stronger, doubt or relief, “How did we-” Wade continued then paused, finally looking at Peter's face. Running nose. Red eyes. Flushed cheeks, “Hey, are...are you crying?”

Peter lost control of his limbs, launching himself at Wade before he knew what he was doing. While Peter's lower body stayed on the floor, from his torso and up rested on Wade's chest. It made out for an awkward hug, but Peter clung to Wade nonetheless. He breathed in the merc's scent. Gunpowder and musk. He listened to the beat of Wade's heart. Steady and pounding. He concentrated on Deadpool's breaths. In and out. This was all the confirmation that Peter needed to know that Wade was alive. But why did it all still feel like a dream? Peter clenched his jaw, trying not to cry and soak Wade's suit. 

“Hey Pete, it's..er..it's okay.” Wade said and placed one arm around Peter awkwardly. It was like Wade didn't know how to hug. Slowly, Wade sat up then coached the both of them into a standing position. Throughout it all, Peter was still gripping onto Wade's chest tightly, probably wrinkling his Deadpool costume. Peter's head rested just below Wade's collar bone and Wade's chin now rested on the top of Peter's head, fully hugging the young hero now. 

“Are...are you okay?” Peter nearly choked on his words. He stared down at the floor, watching his tears drip down and off his face. 

“Yeah,” Wade spoke softly, “I'm okay baby boy.” He kissed the top of Peter's head. And despite not wanting to give up Wade's warmth, Peter let go of Deadpool's chest.

“You...” Peter tried to speak, hurt and worry bubbling in his stomach, “You jerk!” Peter pushed Wade away from him, an action he instantly regretted. He didn't want to stop being near Deadpool, but there was a point to be made. 

Wade sighed like he knew this was coming, “I know, I know. I'm an ass. I shouldn't have killed that dude, I'm sorry Peter.” Heavy silence fell over the room. Peter continued to stare at the floor, his face twisted in confusion.

“What?” Peter asked and noted that Wade started to rock on his feet. Peter imagined Wade scratching the back of his neck.

“You're mad that the dude died...right?” Wade's feet stopped rocking, now he scuffed his foot on the floor. But his comment and ignorance only seemed to upset Peter further. He violently swiped tears away from his eyes, but more just kept coming.

“N-no!” Peter cried, yelling at the floor, “I'm mad that you died!”

The heavy silence was back. 

“Peter, look at me.” 

Peter didn't budge. He didn't look up.

“Peter.” Wade repeated his name, the desperation in his tone was intoxicating. When Peter still didn't shift his gaze, Wade closed the distance between them. He cupped Peter's cheeks and forced him to look at his masked face, “What did you say?”

Peter's vision blurred with tears, “I'm mad that you died!” Peter cried again, “You...you left me Wade. You died on me. I-I didn't know what to do!” 

“I...I'm...” Wade was left speechless, a rare occasion for the merc. His hands stayed firmly planted on each of Peter's cheeks. He wanted to say that he was sorry, but didn't know how. 

Peter found himself leaning into Wade's hand, his own hands holding onto Wade's wrist so that he couldn't let go of his face, “I thought I lost you...I don't want that.” Peter gulped down the lump in his throat, “I don't want to lose you Wade.” 

One moment Wade has Peter's face cupped between his hands, the next Peter is wrapped in the merc's tight embrace. Wade buried his face in Peter's shoulder, not caring that he had to lean down. Peter just barely heard what Wade whispered.

“Say it again.” 

“W-what?” 

“Say it again, please.” 

“I...” Peter hesitated and finally returned Deadpool's hug “I don't want to lose you, Wade.”

Wade started to laugh softly, but it lacked humour. His fingers curled against Peter's back, adding slight pressure. Peter was conscious of how aware he was of every little movement Wade made. And he was mindful of how each movement sent a new sensation through his body. Whether it was anger, worry, sadness, or joy, the point was that Wade was making Peter _feel_ something. And Peter never wanted the feelings to go away. 

“God Peter. You're making it really hard not to kiss you right now. Especially when you go and say things like that.” Wade's breaths became ragged, as if talking was getting hard for him. What he actually said, however, made Peter's heart lurch. Peter was still trying to admit to himself that he might have some sort of feelings for Wade maybe. It was gonna be a long process. 

“Then...why don't you?” Peter was going out on a limb here, he was taking risks. He was talking before actually thinking through what he was saying. For once, Peter was determined not to over think. Mainly because the only thing he could think about was kissing Wade.

“Petey, consent is everything.” Wade was killing the mood and Peter wished he would just shut up. 

“If you don't, then I'm going to.” Peter huffed, not so much annoyed, but just in a way that he was out of breath. Impatient, even.

Wade let Peter go, “You're so fucking cute.” Wade quickly rolled up his mask and within seconds, Peter was pressed up against Wade's chest again, but this time his chin was tilted up. Wade kissed Peter, and Peter kissed him right back. And they kissed. And they kissed. And they _kissed._ To describe it in a word? Hungry. Wade was a hungry kisser, and Peter already knew that he was a timid one. His fist curled and uncurled against Wade's chest, Peter was unsure what to do with his hands. He wanted to snake them behind Wade's neck, press him in closer, making the kiss deeper, but Peter wasn't sure of his limits and was frankly too shy to make any movements. Wade, on the other hand, couldn't seem to keep his hands still. One moment they were running up and down the length of Peter's back, the next they were on his thighs; and the moment after? They seemed to venture a little too close to Peter's ass. Peter dared to be adventurous and moves his hands up and cup Wade's cheeks. Wade tensed and stopped the kiss, pulling back. Peter's hands never left Wade's jawline. 

“Petey-Pie, I...” Wade trailed off, trying not to flinch beneath Peter's touch. For the first time, Peter sees them. It's only a small glimpse, but Peter sees some scars. He feels them beneath his gloved hands. He wants to take off his gloves. “Please...” Wade begged, grabbing onto Peter's wrists, “Please let go.” 

Peter fights back the urge to ask Wade to take it off, or to just take it off himself. It would be lying if Peter said he hasn't been curious as to what Wade looks like. The two laughed together so often, but Peter has never seen Wade's smile. What colour were his eyes? His hair? Did Deadpool have hair? All these things, Peter wanted to know. But he didn't move his hands, and Wade didn't pry them off. He was trusting Peter not to take off or look beneath his mask. If he didn't already, Peter wanted Wade to trust him. He let go of Wade's face, his hands now sliding down and stopping on Wade's chest. Peter felt Wade's heart start to beat fast. 

For the third time that evening, heavy silence weighed down on both their shoulders. That was, until Wade broke it.

“Welp, that was fun! Are you hungry sweetums? We can get some chimichangas.” Wade backed away from Peter and was heading towards the door. Something snapped in Peter. Before Deadpool could take two steps, Peter launched his arm around and grabbed Wade's wrist. His grip was unnaturally tight as he stared down at the floor darkly. Peter could practically feel the shadow that was cast over his face.

“Uhh, baby boy?” Wade questioned, seeming legitimately confused, “You kinda got a death grip on me.”

Peter paid no mind to what Deadpool was saying. Irritation pounded with every beat of his heart. Twice now. Twice Deadpool had kissed Peter. And twice Deadpool was about to dismiss it as nothing. For two weeks Peter avoided talking about their kiss. Partly because he didn't know what to say, and partly because he didn't think Wade would want to talk about it. But Peter couldn't do it again. He couldn't just dismiss another kiss like that.

“Are you serious?” Peter's tone was haunting, his grip flexing on Deadpool's wrist but he did not let go, “Fucking Mexican food?”

“Not a fan of Mexican?”

Peter nearly growled and his scowl could cut like a knife, “I don't know what's normal for you, Wade. I don't know if you go around _kissing_ people like some pansy. I don't know if it even means anything to you. But I don't just go and kiss people. Kissing means something to me Wade! You- You mean something to me!” Peter had to pause to catch his breath, he was bristling with anger. 

“Petey, what...what are you trying to say?” Peter could feel Wade staring at him, and this time, Peter matched Wade's gaze. He looked up at the red clad man, his mask still rolled up. Peter saw the corners of Wade's mouth flicker with a slight smile. Hope. 

“I'm trying to tell you that-!” Peter froze, his words dying with his confidence. What was he trying to tell Deadpool? Peter opened his mouth but no words came out. He felt like he was in a sea of emotions. He was drowning. 

“Peter?” Deadpool said his name again, taking another step towards the stuttering boy. 

“I...” Peter's voice faded, he couldn't do it. He couldn't do it because he didn't know what the hell he was suppose to do. Maybe it was better for him to over think everything, at least that way he actually had some thoughts in his head instead of just nothingness. But then he remembered the events that happened tonight. The lab, the gun shots, Wade. It was a vivid memory but seemed so far away now. Wade died tonight. Peter lost him. He didn't want that to happen again. He wasn't gonna let Wade get away, even that meant acting like a fool, “I-I like you Wade.”

Their entire surroundings seemed to go quiet. No drunk pedestrians on the sidewalks, no cars zooming by, there wasn't even any rain to set the mood. Finally, and thankfully, Deadpool broke the awkwardness that was looming in.

“I like you too?” That was not the reaction Peter wanted. His cheeks flushed with heated anger. 

“You know what, Wade, forget it!” Peter blurted out, once again not thinking, “Forget everything I said! Forget everything that happened! Just- Just forget all about tonight!” Peter stormed off, or at least, he tried to. He was going for the window, but Deadpool ran ahead of him and blocked his way out. 

Shit. 

“Wait, Petey-Pie, just hold on.” Wade panted, apparently tired out from that five second sprint, “Were you trying to say that you, uh, you know. You like me as in...like that?”

Peter let out a yell of frustration, tears were threatening to drip from his eyes again. Peter was wishing very much that he could hit Deadpool, “Why do you do this!?”

“Do what?”

“This!” Peter just gestured at Deadpool's entire body, “Y-you make me so angry!” Peter wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand, “And frustrated!And I could just- just punch you! You're just so annoying!”

“Wow, uh, okay. Ouch.” Wade interrupted, but that's about all he got in before Peter continued to shout.

“But then you turn around and do stuff like that!”

“Do what, exactly? Should I be taking notes?”

“You kiss me! You make me happy! I don't think I laugh harder with anyone else but you!” Peter's sides heaved as he took a deep breath, “I- I like being around you, Wade.”

Wade had no remark for that, he had no words. He just pointed at himself, “Me?”

“Yes, you! You and your stupid jokes and your stupid flirting and your stupid- stupid-” Peter was running out of insults, he never expressed emotions very well, “Your stupid suit and stupid face.” That's when he went too far, and Peter knew it too. He mentioned Wade's face, something the merc was rather self conscious about. Shit. Wade stared at Peter for a moment, a frown of hurt cast upon his face. Quickly, Wade pulled down his mask and turned his back to Peter.

“Shit, Wade, I-” Peter tried to apologize, but Deadpool silenced him by holding up his hand. And this time, it was Wade's turn to stare at the floor.

“Did you mean it?” He asked. Peter couldn't read his tone. It was hurt yet curious all at the same time. It was expectant and scared. It didn't sound very much like Wade.

“N-no! I didn't mean to- what I just meant was-” Peter couldn't find the words. He crossed a line. Or so he thought.

“I'm not talking about that.”

Peter was shocked, “You're...not?”

Deadpool still didn't look look up or turn around, “Did you mean all those things you said? About making you laugh and wanting to be around me and shit. Do you actually like me, or are you just saying that because I protected you? Don't feel like you owe me anything, Peter.” 

“No, Wade! That's not- I don't-” Peter took a calming breath then closed the distance between him and Wade. Peter placed his hand and rested his forehead against Wade's back, dried blood was caked to his suit, but Peter didn't care. He felt the mercenary tense up, but he eventually melted, “That's not what this is about, Wade. I meant what I said. I really do like being around you.”

Wade chuckled dryly, almost in disbelief, “So what do you wanna do?”

“I want to get this blood off your back, you stink.” Peter whispered, earning yet another chuckle from Wade, but this time it was full of humour.

“I'm being serious Pete.” His tone didn't sound serious though, Peter could tell Wade was smiling. Just knowing that made Peter smile too. 

“I am too. You smell really gross.” 

“Heh, alright. I'll go shower.” Wade agreed and stepped away from Peter, he started walking towards the bathroom.

“But what if that hurts your back?” Peter pointed out and followed Wade. 

“The water pressure? Nah, besides, I'm all healed up.” 

“But you were still shot 15 times tonight”

“Yeah but-”

“Wade, please.” At Peter's desperate tone, Wade halted in the doorway of the bathroom. He turned and leaned against the door frame. This time, Peter wasn't scared to meet Wade's gaze, “I don't want you getting hurt again.” 

Deadpool lost all his confidence with a sigh, “Fine. I'll take a quick bath, wash my back, then come back out here. Because our conversation we had in the living room, you can bet your sweet ass that it's not over.” 

Peter laughed, Deadpool was good at making him do that, “I won't go anywhere.”

“Alright then, I'll be right back.” Deadpool did that classic two fingers 'I'm watching you' move then backed into the washroom, shutting the door. Peter slumped against the wall of the hallway and ran his fingers through his hair. What the hell was he getting himself into? 

In the washroom, the water stopped running and Peter heard Wade get into the tub. Then he heard some grunts. And before any minds run wild, no, they were not grunts of pleasure. They were grunts of pain or grunts of frustration. Peter approached the closed door, setting one hand on it and the other on the door knob. 

“Wade, everything okay in there?”

It took a moment before Deadpool answered, “Um, kinda? I just, I can't reach.”

Peter's brow furrowed, “Reach what?”

“My climax.”

Peter stayed silent. 

“That was a joke.” Deadpool said once he realized Peter wasn't going to answer, “Petey? You still there?”

Peter gulped, “Um, yeah. I'm still here.”

“Good, cause I can't reach my back. I don't think I thought this through. The soap is too slippery.” 

“Oh uh, do you...do you need help?” Peter offered, silently thanking the door was between them so Deadpool couldn't see his red face.

Seconds of silence passed before Wade spoke up, “You would do that?” 

At first, Peter just nodded his head. But then he realized that Wade couldn't see him. Smart move Parker, smart move, “Y-yeah. As long as you're- um, decent?”

A laugh came from the other side of the door, “Nothing about me is decent baby boy.”

Peter's blushed darkened, getting easily flustered, “You know what I mean Wade!”

The laughter was soft, but still audible. Once Wade answered, Peter could hear him trying to mask his fear, “Yeah I'm decent, come in.” 

Peter took a deep breath before turning the knob. First he just peaked inside the bathroom, then fully emerged into it. Wade was sitting on the edge of the tub, his back was facing Peter. He wasn't wearing his Deadpool costume, but he wasn't completely naked either. He was wearing some Spiderman themed boxers and Wade still had his mask on. 

“Just...don't stare, okay?” Deadpool's voice was low, but wasn't threatening. It shook slightly, indicating that we was scared.

“I...I won't.” Peter answered quietly and walked his way over to Wade. Despite his words, Spiderman couldn't help but stare. Wade's back, no, Wade's entire _body_ was covered in scars. Peter knew that he was scarred, but not to this extent. There was a different variety of scars too, different shapes and sizes. Some were slashes, some looked like stabs, burns, and others resembled blisters. Peter took off his Spiderman gloves and set a hand on Wade's callused back. Wade flinched beneath this touch, but did not pull away. Peter rubbed a spot on Wade's back with his thumb.

“Peter...” Wade whispered his name. Peter wanted to ask about his scars, he wanted to know more, but he didn't dare. 

“Do you have the soap?” Pete spoke softly. Wade nodded his head and handed Peter a washcloth and some soap. Without any more words, Peter knelt down and began washing the blood off of Wade's back, dipping the cloth in the water then lathering it with soap. He did his best to be gentle. After a few minutes of silence, Wade spoke. 

“So, uh, you never answered my question from before.” 

“What question?” Peter asked in return, but was only half listening. He was almost mesmerized by Wade's back, the way each scar felt beneath his hand. 

“What do you wanna do?” As soon as Wade said that, Peter remembered. Right. Their conversation from before. What did Peter wanna do about all of this? He didn't know. And, as of right now, there was no point in telling Wade anything but the truth.

With a sigh, Peter said, “Like hell I know.”

Wade laughed sadly, “I understand if you wanna take back all you said. You know, now that you know just how fucking hideous I am.” 

Peter stayed silent for a moment. Not because he was contemplating what Wade said, but because he felt the urge to protest. He best not push the subject though, “No...I still mean it. Nothing has changed, Wade.” 

Another laugh, less sad this time, “You really are crazy web-head.”

Peter chuckled, “I'm pretty sure that's you.” 

“You know, I might just have a crazy idea.” As Wade spoke, Peter could practically feel him smirk. 

“Do I wanna know?” Peter smiled, squeezing all the water out of the cloth.

Wade turned to face Peter, his feet and back dripping wet, “Go out with me tomorrow.”

Peter dropped the cloth in the water, feeling a familiar dusty rose colour appearing on his cheeks, “L-like a date?”

Wade shrugged beside him, “We can figure out the details later. You said you liked spending time with me, so lets spend more time together. But as Wade and Peter. Not Spiderman and Deadpool. Then we can see where it goes from there. We can like, you know, test the waters or something.” 

Peter looked at Wade, but the mercenary was staring blankly at the wall. Or at least, that's what his mask indicated that he was doing. His idea was actually pretty insightful, “Test the waters.” Peter echoed, “Yeah, I like that idea.” 

“Great!” Wade clasped his hands together excitedly, he was acting more like himself again, “It's a date!”

“B-but you just said-” Peter barely had time to get worked up before Deadpool cut him off.

“I'm just kidding around. But we do need a time, place, etc.”

Peter pondered for a moment, “Do you got a phone?”

“Yeah,” Deadpool answered questionably, “Why?” 

“Where is it?”

“In one of my pouches.” Wade pointed to his Deadpool suit on the floor. Peter picked it up and fumbled around for his phone. Eventually, he did end up finding it.

“There.” Peter nodded in satisfaction, “I gave you my number. Text me and we can, uh, work out the details.” Peter rubbed his neck, did he sound too awkward? 

“Did I just score Spiderman's number without even needing to try?” Deadpool joked, or at least, Peter thought he said that as a joke. Wade stood up, grabbing his towel and started to dry himself off. Peter was trying not to stare, but this was the first time he was seeing Wade without his Deadpool costume. In fact, Peter was the one holding onto his costume right now. The only part Peter couldn't see was Wade's face, and that's the only part he cared about. 

Wade was finishing up drying himself off when he caught Peter looking at him, “What the fuck are you staring at pretty boy?” He was using fake anger, Peter could hear it in his voice. Wade was trying to be defensive with him, but it was just to mask something else. And what that was? Peter couldn't tell. 

“Why do you do that?” Peter asked, his grip on Wade's suit tightening slightly.

Wade's anger was slowly melting away, “Do what?”

“Wear your mask, like, all the time.” Peter knew he was pushing a sensitive topic, but his curiosity always got the best of him.

“Can you not see the rest of my fucking body? I'm hideous everywhere else, my face is no different.” 

“You used that word twice tonight.” Peter was referring to that time earlier tonight, right after Wade wanted to see if Peter was gonna back out of his confession. 

“Yeah, so?” Wade was getting defensive again, but he exhaled softly before calming down, “Besides,” He rocked back and forth on his heels, “It helps a little. To like, accept the fact that other people, so basically you, are looking at me. This way I know it's not my face you're looking at.”

Peter said nothing, out of all the answers Wade could have given, that was the last one Peter was expecting. Maybe Deadpool was a lot more insecure than Peter had originally thought. He was a lot more human. 

“Hey isn't it getting kind of late?” Wade continued, breaking the silence. 

Peter shook his head to snap out of it, “Oh, yeah. I better get home. Um, here's your suit.” Peter walked the little distance that was between him and Deadpool, holding up his suit for him to take. And that's exactly Wade did, but he didn't put it on straight away.

“Expect a text from me baby boy.” Wade did a finger gun with his hand and a click-click sound with his mouth, “If you can't tell I am also winking.”

Peter laughed. That was the Wade he knew. 

_Test the waters._ The thought popped into Peter's head out of nowhere. But that's what he decided to do, to test the waters. For a goodbye, Peter hugged Deadpool. 

“I'll see you tomorrow, Wade.” 

“Petey-Pie, what are you doing?” Wade sounded out of breath. He was tense and a little shaky in Peter's arms. Wade didn't return the embrace.

“I'm fighting off Electro, what does it look like I'm doing?” Now it was Peter's turn to get defensive. His weapon of choice? Sarcasm. 

“Y-you're hugging me- my scars- you're hugging- bare skin.” Wade's voice came out as choppy, as if he couldn't decide on what to say first, “You're touching and- and my skin it's gross- you think it's gross- you- you- Let go.” 

“Wade, I don't think-”

“I said let go!” With that shout, Wade forcefully pushed Peter off of him. Peter stumbled across the room and slammed into the doorway, sliding to the floor. Meanwhile, Wade lost his balance and wavered a few steps backwards, tripping and falling into the tub full of bloody water. 

Peter groaned and rubbed his head, “Ow, shit.” That's all he could say before over on the other end of the room, Wade started to scramble and slip about in the tub. In his dazed headache, Peter laughed. Wade looked like an oversized seal. Eventually, the merc did end up getting out of the tub and he slumped against the side of it. Wade's limp body reminded Peter a little too much of the events that happened at the lab, it sent a chill down his spine.

“Fuck, Peter, I-I didn't mean to. I'm just, I'm sorry.” Wade stammered but didn't get up from his ductile position. Peter was the one to crawl over to Wade, taking a seat beside him and rested his head on the mercenary's shoulder. Wade glanced over at Peter but didn't go stiff, instead, he placed his head on top of Peter's, “Are you always this clingy?”

“I'm part spider, it's what I do best.” Peter said with slight humour. It made the two of them laugh. With a faint smile, Peter closed his eyes. He could fall asleep right now and wouldn't care. 

“So, you _are_ a fan of Mexican, right?” Wade beggared the silence that was forming, “Cause other wise I don't think we can test the waters after all.”

Peter chuckled, “Yeah, I like Mexican.” 

“Good.” And that was that. The two boys sat in silence for a little longer, and Peter didn't ever want to go home. He didn't want this to end. Or, at the very least, he didn't want to move. He was happy here, sitting in a puddle of water on the bathroom floor, next to Wade. It was nice, calming even. Peter's smile never faded. 

_Test the waters_

Yeah, Peter liked that idea. He could do that. And maybe this time, instead of drowning, Peter could learn to swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy sappy fun times.


	11. Chapter 10

Wade skipped merrily across the street. The mid-morning sun beamed down through the tall buildings and was quickly heating the air. Wade was starting to regret wearing his bulky grey hoodie, it felt like a toaster oven inside of there. But it's not like Wade could have worn his Deadpool suit on his and Peter's date. 

[It's not a date.]

Yeah whatever. Anyway, the only part of his costume that he was wearing was his mask. Other than that, his outfit consisted of his sweater, black leather gloves, jeans, and sneakers. He was casual Wade today. And despite wearing his mask, he also wore his hood, just for extra protection. If Wade was gonna be seen out in public with Peter, he wanted to make sure that not an inch of his skin was showing. He was still uncertain about how Peter felt about his scars, even after last night's events. Last night, when remembering it all, Wade didn't know how to feel. There was yelling, tears, a lot of emotional stuff that Wade wasn't all that sure how to deal with. And at the end of the night, before Peter left to go home, it ended up with the two of them on the bathroom floor cuddling. Well, it you could count leaning on each other as cuddling. Did that count? Wade had no clue, it's been a while. 

{Back to skipping merrily across the street now?}

Right, so Wade skipped merrily across the street -while becoming a well toasted piece of bread- and into the cafe on the other side. Fill Me Up Coffee Shop is where they agreed to meet and thankfully it was air conditioned. Wade entered the cafe, it was a pretty nice place. The walls were the colour of coffee with cream in it. It was a mix between stools and chairs, depending on the table you sat at and the tables themselves dark oak. It gave off a very 'coffee shop' vibe. Almost like it was trying too hard to be better than Starbucks. As soon Wade walked through the door, he heard a chair screech across the floor. He looked over and there was Peter, standing up and chair pushed out. He was with two other people, some dude and a hot blonde. They looked like everyday people. Peter, however, looked frantic and was scrambling to pick up his stuff. With a slight smirk, Wade skipped over to their table, wrapping an arm around Peter, and planted them both in chairs. It took some coordination, so Wade was proud of himself.

“Hey Petey-Pie, you didn't tell me this was a double date.” 

The two other people exchanged a glance then laughed. Wade beamed, maybe he was gonna finally pull off a good first impression. Peter, however, was not impressed. 

“It- it's not a double date!” 

{Aww, Petey is getting defensive. I love it when he's flustered}

The dude and the blonde laughed again. Then the chick spoke up.

“Peter, who is this guy?”

Peter sighed deeply, looking as if he wanted to step in front of a bus right about now, “Wade, this is Gwen and Harry. Gwen, Harry, this is Wade. He's my-” Peter paused. This was the perfect moment for Wade to interrupt.

“Sexy date? Super awesome boyfriend? Husband?” Wade placed his chin in his hands and wiggled his eyebrows. The movement must have been visible through his mask because another round of laughter erupted at the table followed by a groan coming from Peter. 

“Is there a none of the above option?” Peter snapped back, “Can we please just go now?”

“Aww, but I'm having fun Petey-Pie, I like your friends.” Wade pouted, but telling by Peter's scowl it was actually time to go. Wade had his fun.

“Wait,” it was Harry who spoke up, “Why are you wearing a mask?”

{Shit.}

[We don't have an answer for that.]

Luckily, Wade didn't have to think of an answer. Harry kept talking.

“Are you like some Spiderman cosplayer?” 

{C'mon! Our mask doesn't look anything like Spiderman's!}

[It kinda does, and it's the best excuse as of right now.]

“Fair point.” Oops, Wade let that one slip aloud, “I mean, yes, yes I am a Spiderman cosplayer. Love me some superheroes.”

“Ha!” Harry laughed nonchalantly, “Spiderman is a menace, not a hero. Don't you read the Daily Bugle? He should leave the saving to the Avengers.” 

[Uh-oh]

{We're not just heated from the sun anymore, are we?}

[Nope, we're hella angry.]

{No one insults our Spidey!}

Wade was about to fight back, but underneath the table Peter had kicked him. He exchanged a glance with Peter and Wade could tell by his glare to not speak up. Oh. _Oh._ Peter's friends don't know that he's Spiderman. Whoops. 

“Well.” Wade huffed, “I happen to think Spiderman is the best hero. Captain America and IronMan can kiss his ass.” He stood up angrily, “Come on baby boy, let's get on with our date.” Wade left the table, but he was still in range that he could hear Peter's comment before he followed.

“Never upset a cosplayer.” Peter had shrugged then caught up with Wade. They didn't start talking until a few feet away from the cafe. 

“Can you believe the nerve of that guy, he insulted you right to your face sweetums!” 

“It's okay Wade, I'm use to it. Besides, I'm not in the hero business for the fame.”

{Ah, so cute.}

“Yeah, but aren't they your friends? Shouldn't they know that you're Spiderman?” Wade pressed on. 

“Gwen knows, but Harry doesn't. And it's for that exact reason that he doesn’t know. He hates Spiderman, I don't want him to hate me too. He's my best friend.” Peter clarified then added, “Can we please drop the topic?” 

Wade grumbled, “Fine. But what were they doing there in the first place?”

“When I was waiting for you to show up, they showed up. So we had a quick cup of coffee.” 

“Wait how long were you waiting. I didn't think I was that late.” Wade glanced at his watch, well, his wrist. He wasn't wearing a watch. Really the action was just for show.

“No no, I was- uh, I was a bit early.” Peter rubbed his neck and looked away. 

{He's embarrassed}

[That means he's hiding something.]

“Exactly how early were you?” Wade saw Peter's cheeks heat up once he asked that question. Plus, his baby boy wouldn't look at him. Peter mumbled his answer but Wade didn't hear, “Sorry, I didn't catch that. Could you repeat it?”

Peter glared at Wade, but there wasn't real anger behind it, “An hour.”

Wade stopped in his tracks, but Peter kept going. He ran to catch up to him, “An hour early?! If you wanted to go out for brunch you could have told me.”

“I know, I know.” Peter brushed him off with a wave of his hand, “This is just our first um, outing, together. I didn't want to be late.”

Something inside Wade swelled.

[It's called a heart.]

{I don't think we have one of those.}

He practically jumped on his baby boy, wrapping him in a tight hug. It was awkward, because Peter kept walking, so Wade had to keep walking. They probably looked ridiculous, but Wade didn't give a fuck. 

“You're so adorable baby boy!” 

“Wade! Get off of me!” Peter, obviously using some of his Spiderman strength, pushed Wade off of him. He pouts. 

“If we're gonna test things out, we're gonna need to get more physical.” 

{A sex joke, really?}

Peter's nose scrunched slightly, by that action Wade could tell that he was thinking.

“Fine. We can hold hands.” After a moment's hesitation Peter added, “I mean, if you want to.” 

“Petey, just assume that with any physical contact, I want it.” Wade stated then held out his hand, “Now gimme.”

Peter laughed and placed his hand in Wade's, but almost immediately he took it back again, “Ow! Jesus Wade, you're hand is hot.”

Wade glanced down at his gloved hand. Oh right, black leather plus hot sun does not equal proper hand holding. 

“Oh, sorry Petey-Pie.” Wade continued to stare at his hand.

[Should we take off the glove?]

{And let our sweet innocent baby boy get caught holding our bare hand? Yeah right, next plan.}

“Aren't you gonna take off the glove?” It was Peter's voice that snapped Wade out of his thoughts. He stared blankly at Peter.

“Am I gonna what now?”

“Take off the glove.” Peter repeated as if there was nothing wrong with that statement. 

[I don't think there _is_ anything wrong.]

“Are you sure about that?” Wade wasn't sure if he was asking that question to Peter or himself.

“Of course I am.” Peter took Wade's hand again, he removed the glove, “See? That wasn't so hard.” Peter put the glove in the pocket of Wade's hoodie. Then he ran his fingers over Wade's palm, Wade himself tried not to pull away. It was a mystery to him really, how Peter could stand looking at his scars let alone touch them. Peter laced their fingers together and let their hands drop by their sides. In his head, Wade took silent notes. Peter's hand was warm, but not warm as in sweaty, but warm as in like a sense of comfort. They were also small, well, compared to Wade's they were small. But somehow their hands still fit together perfectly. And lastly, Peter's hand was smooth. Like, this kid must moisturize, cocoa butter maybe? Who knows. Wade felt a tinge of jealously. 

Now that Wade's hand was exposed, he felt like every passing person would stare. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't. To a paranoid mind, it didn't make a difference. Each pair of eyes were knives, and his hand was the cake. 

[Why cake?]

“Because, if there's cake in the room, everyone is gonna stare at it.” Wade answered simply.

“What?” Peter looked at him in confusion, but beneath that there was amusement. 

“Oh, did I say that out loud?” Wade asked and Peter gave a nod of his head, “My bad.”

Peter laughed in response, “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head.” 

“Oh believe me Petey, you don't wanna get in here.” Wade chuckled but it died quickly. Some dude walked by and glanced their way, that was enough to kill Wade's joy. Okay, he was definitely staring at his hand right? It was unmistakable. Another person walked by, more stares. All of a sudden the streets seemed to be filled with people. All eyes were on them. With each passing pedestrian, Wade tugged at Peter's hand. He was resisting the urge to stuff his hand in his pocket, to hide it from the glares of everyone. 

“Peter,” Wade hushed, “I think people are staring.”

Peter glanced Wade's way, “I haven't noticed anyone staring.” 

“But they are! Like that dude!” Wade pointed at the guy that just walked past them, “He just stared at us!”

“Wade, I think you're just being overly suspicious of everyone.” Peter replied and surprisingly, he didn't sound annoyed. Quickly, he thought of something to distract Wade, “Where are we going anyway?”

“Oh!” Wade brightened up, “I figured for lunch we could go to my favourite chimichanga place. It's just down the road from here.”

“Is it like an actual restaurant?”

Wade hesitated.

{Told you we should have made a reservation somewhere. Our Petey likes to dine with class.}

“Uhh, no. No it's not. We can go someplace else if you want to.”

[But we hate restaurants.]

“No,” Peter smiled, “I'm not a fan of restaurants that much. A chimichanga stand sounds perfect.” 

{Could he be any more adorable?} 

[Maybe in the nude.]

{Fair point.}

The rest of the walk was spent with, surprisingly, Peter rambling on. 

{Rambling is our thing, he's trying to take our thing.}

[You do know what he's actually trying to do, don't you?] 

{No..}

[He's trying to distract us! From our hands?]

{That's actually...incredibly sweet.}

“Oh Spidey- shit, I mean Petey.” Deadpool interrupted, “This is it.” He pointed just across the street and, sure enough being the expert that he is, there was the chimichanga stand. The two of them crossed the street, Wade flipping off any car that stop just in time before hitting them. They made it to the stand safely.

{Mission report, Step one; chimichanga stand is complete. Step two; obtain the chimichangas.}

All this thinking about food was making Wade's stomach grumble and his mouth water. He looked at the man running the stand up and down. It was some lanky early twenties probably failed musician newbie. Great, now he won't know that Deadpool is a loyal customer. Wade leaned against the stand, let go of Peter's hand, and pointed a finger gun at the dude. 

“Hey newbie, two chimichangas. Pronto.” At Wade's request, the shrimp just looked at him annoyed. Wade could have sworn that he too had glanced at his bare hand, but Spidey had said that Wade was being paranoid. He let it slide. 

{Newbie was probably staring at our mask. It's not something you see everyday y'know.}

[Sure, keep telling yourself that.]

The food was made fairly quickly so Wade stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out the money. Of course, baby boy tried to pay for his, but Wade decided to be a gentlemen. He told Peter to put his money away, this one was on him. People do that on dates right? With his gloved hand Wade took the chimichangas, with the other hand he gave the money to the guy. This time, newbie spoke up.

“Ew gross, learn to wash your hands once in a while old man.” 

Wade froze, he had two instincts.

{Kill him.}

[Walk away, remember, Spidey is here!] 

{But he just called you old!}

[What about impressing Peter?] 

“Hey!” Peter's harsh tone surprised Wade, he didn't expect Peter to speak up at all, “How about you shut the fuck up and take our money. We can always go spend it somewhere else.”

Newbie was taken aback, as was Wade. His hand was still frozen in the air, the one that was holding their chimichangas. If the food wasn't so precious, Wade might have just dropped them he was that much in awe.

“C'mon Wade,” Peter grumbled and grabbed Wade's free hand, “let's get out of here.” On that note, Peter practically dragged Wade away from the food stand. After minutes of trudging the sidewalk, Wade spoke up.

“Wow, I didn't know you had that in ya Pete.” He spoke with pure astonishment, “You went all protective boyfriend on me.”

“I did not!” Peter defended himself, finally slowing their pace, “People like that just piss me off.” 

“People like what?” 

“You know, judgey people, closed minded people. People like that. I hate them.” Peter suppressed a sigh then continued, “So where are we going now?”

“I figured we could eat on a roof, away from people you hate.” Wade smirked, hoping his mask would crinkle just right so Peter could see his expression. Even though Wade radiated confidence, inside he was scared as hell. He kept second guessing everything he said, every movement he'd make, everything he did. Wade questioned himself all the time. Was he talking too fast? Too long? Did Peter really want to hold his hand, or was he just being nice? Does Peter really like Mexican, or did he just say that? Should he have asked Peter what he wanted to do? Was he being too annoying? Too loud? Too Deadpool? Granted, this was much out of Wade's character, and he hoped Peter didn't notice. He once said that he wanted to see inside Wade's mind, and at the moment if Peter was granted that power, he'd be swarmed with all these questions. All these secret thoughts that Wade would never say out loud. 

Peter let out a light chuckle, “That actually sounds pretty nice.” The two of them found the nearest building and used the fire escape to climb up it. Wade wanted to hop on Peter's back and have him climb the both of them to the top, but Peter was afraid that someone might see them. Well, see him use his spidey powers. Oh well, maybe next time. It didn't matter how they got up to the roof, point is that they made it. Wade dangled his feet over the ledge while Peter sat cross legged. 

“Ready for the best chimichanga of your life?” Wade smiled and handed the deep fried Mexican dish to the boy sitting beside him. 

“I'm ready for the first chimichanga of my life.” Peter playfully corrected and took the food from Wade's hand. Deadpool had to choke down his own gasp.

“You're first chimichanga!? Dear god boy, haven't you ever lived!?” Wade spoke using his 'almighty god' voice, sounding a bit like Thor in the process.

[You know, we're not really that talkative this chapter.]

{Shut up and enjoy the cuteness. We're about to share some real bonding moments.}

Once again, Peter laughed, “Let's just dig in.” 

Wade gave a nod of his head in response and rolled up his mask. With a swift motion, he unwrapped his chimichanga and inhaled deeply. It seemed like forever ago since Wade last had his most favourite food. And now, being able to share it with his favourite person was like a dream come true. Except, his favourite person was staring at him. Instantaneously, Wade became hyper aware of everything around him.

“What? What's wrong baby boy?” Only now, after Wade said that, did he notice the lightness in Peter's eyes and the amusement in Peter's smile. 

“You rolled up your mask without hesitating this time.”

{Pull it down! Pull it down!}

“Fuck, sorry baby boy.” Wade reached up to pull his mask back down. He felt like an idiot. He didn't even think about the consequences of pulling his mask up to eat. Of course Peter didn't want to see his face as they were trying to eat. His face was a disgusting mess. Wade was surprised that Peter didn't automatically vomit at the sight, they were eating Mexican food after all. 

“No, Wade. I meant it as a good thing.” Peter smiled and lowered Wade's hand from his face. He didn't put up a fight. Wade loved the smile Peter was wearing.

{We're like putty in his gorgeous hands.}

[That's a bad sign, we're totally falling for him]

{Wasn't that clear from the beginning of the story?}

“Oh.” Wade blinked, “I guess we can keep eating then.” And that's precisely what they did. It was oddly peaceful. To be honest, from the start Wade wasn't sure how this day was gonna go. For one, this was the first time he and Peter were just hanging out together. Well, there was the night with the video games, but that didn't count. This was the real first time they were hanging out. As what though? Wade wasn't able to tell. As friends? As lovers? 

{I doubt that we're lovers.}

Wade decided to ignore his thought boxes, sometimes they just ruin everything. Back to the point which is that Wade was improvising the hell out of this afternoon. And he was nervous. Deadpool could preform the most unimaginable task without a shred of nerves or guilt. Hell, he kills people for a living. But when it came to normal human things? It scared the living shit out of him. But Wade wasn't doing too bad, or at least, he didn't think so. Peter was laughing at all his jokes, they kept the conversation going. For the first time in a long time Wade almost felt normal. 

Almost.

“So I clogged the toilet with my webs trying to rescue my goldfish. And that's why, after my fish, I never got another pet as a kid.” Peter just finished another story about his childhood. Wade was loving it. Normally, he liked to do all the talking, but there was just something about the way Peter told his stories that seemed to captivate Wade.

“You're adorable baby boy.” Wade grinned and wrapped his arm around Peter's neck, pulling him into a noogie position. He didn't, however, give Peter a noogie. Instead he kissed the top of his head. Peter laughed, trying to pry himself from Wade's grip. 

“Let me go Wade!” 

“If you insist.” Wade smirked and dropped Peter's head. He landed on Wade's lap face first.

{Initiate boner is tee minus 2 minutes.} 

Peter rolled over, his head remaining in Wade's lap only now he was looking up at the merc. Wade prevented himself from running his fingers through Peter's hair. It just looked so soft. 

“Okay it's your turn.” Peter said, not moving from his spot on Wade's lap. It was safe to assume that Peter was gonna stay there. 

“My turn?” Wade wondered. Unable to resist the urge anymore, Wade tangled his fingers in Peter's hair. He was right. It was soft. And Peter didn't seem to mind.

“Yeah, I've told you some stories about my childhood. It's your turn.” 

“Oh geez..” Wade caught himself trailing off. What was he suppose to tell Peter? Stories about his cancerous mother, his drunken father, his incapability to stay in one home for too long? This whole time Peter was able to tell stories about his past without getting too personal. Wade didn't know the name of his fathers, but he knew stories about them. How was he suppose to tell stories about his childhood without completely killing the mood? Wade thought of a quick excuse, “I don't really have any cool stories like you do Petey.”

“You must have something.” Peter insisted. Damn, so Wade's excuse didn't work, “Did you have any pets?”

Wade thought for a moment, “No, no pets.” 

“Siblings?” 

“Nope, only child.”

“That must have been boring.” Peter said, but he sounded like he was elsewhere. Something else was on his mind. And Wade had a suspicion as to what it was considering at some point during their conversation Peter had taken Wade's hand from his hair and was almost studying it. 

Wade shrugged, “My dad kept it interesting.” That wasn't a complete lie. He never said that it was a good interesting. 

“Are you close with your dad?”

Wade almost burst out laughing, “Ha, no. No way. He's dead.” Deadpool realized what he said just seconds after saying it. So much for not killing the mood. 

“Oh,” Peter's grip on Wade's hand tightened, “I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

Once again, Deadpool shrugged, “It's no big deal. He was an ass anyway.”

“What about your mom?” 

“She died of cancer when I was a kid.” Wade felt Peter's grip tighten again. He almost found it amusing, knowing that Peter thought he was pushing a touchy topic. Wade didn't mind though, he never really cared for his parents anyway, “What about your parents Petey-Pie? Your biological ones I mean. Do you know them?”

“They died when I was young, I don't really remember them. I was raised by my aunt and uncle until I was four, then I went to live with my dads.” Peter answered simply. Turns out he didn't mind talking about his parents either. 

“Aww, look at us sharing tragic back stories.” Wade teased although it lacked the joke. It lacked amusement. Wade almost knew what Peter was going to ask next, and he was dreading having to answer. 

“Heh, yeah..” Peter's voice faded out. Here it comes, he's gonna ask it, Wade could feel it, “Hey Wade?”

“Yes Peter?”

“What happened?”

[Quick! Play innocent.]

“What happened where?” Wade asked, doing as his thought box suggested. 

“To you, I mean.” Peter clarified, not looking at Wade himself but at his hand, “Your scars.” 

{Wait wait wait. Hold the fuck on. I thought this was suppose to be a fluffy chapter! Not another emotional one. What happened to the happy?}

[We kind killed it when we started talking back stories.]

{Well, killing is what we do best.}

[It's the only thing we're good at.]

“Guys,” Wade interrupted his own thoughts, “You're kinda going off on a tangent here.” Peter paid no mind to Wade as he went off talking to himself. And Wade was grateful for that, made him feel less crazy, “Listen Pete, it's kinda a long story.”

“Are we not close enough to talk about them yet?” Peter asked, innocence was dripping from his tone. That's how Wade could tell that Peter was being sincere. He was so young and innocent. Wade's chest hurt at the question. 

“It's not that Petey. It's just- well I-” Wade stuttered, he rarely ever stuttered. He sighed, “Weapon-X fucked me up real bad. And not just physically.”

{Wait, are we, like, actually sharing our story? And getting emotional about it?}

[That's what it looks like.]

{That's out of character, should we crack a joke?}

[I dunno, I kinda wanna see how this one plays out.]

“Wait,” Peter began and hoisted himself up to get a better look at Wade, “You mean Weapon-X did all of this?”

Wade nodded his head, “Yup.”

Peter opened his mouth but no sound came out of it. He wants to ask more, Wade could tell. He saw the curiosity spark in Peter's eyes. He wished that his Spidey-widey would let it go though, Wade hated talking about his past. He could listen to Peter all day, he could even talk about himself all day, but about his past? There was no way. It was straight out of a horror movie. And the last thing Deadpool wanted was for Peter to fear him. 

“You don't like talking about it...do you?” Peter frowned, not with disappointment, but with pity. That's another thing Deadpool hates, when people pity him. What's the god damn point of it? 

“Not in particular.” Wade retaliated, “Besides, this is suppose to be a fluffy chapter.”

“Fluffy?” Peter questioned and tilted his head to the side. It was a cute quirk of his whenever he's confused about something. Wade realized this after their very first team up. He was glad that the trait stuck with Peter.

“You know, super cute. Like play wrestling or stealing kisses. Stuff like that.” 

“I like your smile.” Peter said without warning. Wade's head jolted slightly in shock, he hadn't realized his mask was still rolled up from their long forgotten chimichangas. He never bothered to roll it back down again. 

“What?” Wade knew what Peter said, but he asked him to repeat it anyway.

“I said I like when you smile, you have a nice one.” Peter added more detail but Wade barely paid mind to it. Another thing he didn't notice, he didn't realize that he was smiling. Now that Wade thought about it, he smiled a lot this afternoon. 

“Why...why are you telling me this, exactly?”

{That's a great way to thank somebody, jackass.} 

[Next time return the complement, that's a normal thing to do. Like 'I like your smile' then you go 'Thanks, I like your ass'.]

“Was that not fluffy enough for this chapter?” Now it was Peter's turn to smile, well, more like a smirk. A clever one. 

“That was the cutest fourth wall break ever baby boy!” Wade cried and wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling him into his embrace. Wade fell backward so he was laying down on the rooftop, Peter was on his chest. He didn't let go of him, and Peter didn't bother to move, “You know, you're letting me hug you more often now.”

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“No,” Wade reassured, “It's good character development. It's cute to see how different you act around me now. Cute for the readers I mean. And for me too I guess. You're just cute in general. Like your hair, I love the tuffs. And your face, I just wanna go like boop boop...” Wade started to ramble on and on. Now Peter? That's something Wade could talk about for hours. 

{Who's going off on a tangent now?}

[Are we still going?]

{Oh yeah, we're still talking. Look, we're about to fade back in.}

“...and of course your ass. Like, daaaaaaammmn-” Wade stopped talking once Peter kissed his hand then pressed it against Wade's lips. 

“Shut up Wade.” Peter bared his signature playful smile. However the second he removed his hand from Wade's mouth, Wade started to talk again.

“What was that?”

“An indirect kiss. I figured a direct one would be too much character development for me.”

Now Wade was left speechless and Peter laid his head back down on Wade's chest. Deadpool could practically feel Peter smirking even though he couldn't see it. His baby boy just broke the 4th wall twice and was being super cute about it. And now? The two of them were just laying down together on a roof, bathing in the late afternoon sun. Wade didn't plan this. He didn't plan just eating out then doing nothing but lay down and talk all day. But that's how it all went down. They stayed together till the sun was starting to set and Peter said he had to get back for supper. Wade was reluctant to let Peter go, but he did anyway once his baby boy started to insist and get slightly annoyed. He quickly reassured Wade afterwards though, saying how they'll meet up for patrol later on tonight. 

“And Wade?” Peter continued, pausing at the ledge of the building before swinging off. Peter had the hood of his sweater on so no one would see his face, “Thanks for today. I had fun.” Peter left before Wade could respond. As was he was swinging away on one of his spiderwebs, Wade watched his ass. 

Damn that ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year my gay ass reading shits :) May your 2017 not be a literal hell


	12. Chapter 11

“That was delicious!” Peter flashed one of his grins to both his parents, leaning back in his chair. The aroma of a well cooked family dinner still lingered in the kitchen as Peter and his dads were just finishing up supper. Steve was already at the sink washing the dishes and Tony was leaning against the counter, a towel in hand. Peter gathered up his empty plate and glass and brought them over to set them on the pile of dirty dishes. While over there, Peter leaned up and kissed Steve's cheek, “Thanks for the food Pops!”

Steve and Tony exchanged a curious glance but Peter barely noticed it. 

“You weren't lying when you said you had a good day.” Tony commented, chuckling silently. Over supper, Peter told them all about his day. Well, most of it anyway. He mentioned that he was going out with a friend and told his dads about all the activities they did. Which consisted of just getting food and talking on a rooftop. But Peter's parents enjoyed listening to the story nonetheless. They already commented twice this evening about how Peter's mood was changing recently. Both times Peter rolled his eyes with an amused smile. 

“Not to be rude or anything,” Peter continued, “But I gonna run. I got Spiderman stuff to do, people to see, bad guys to beat, you know the drill.” With a playful, and exaggerated, shrug of his shoulders Peter took off from the kitchen. He quickly dashed to his room, slipped on his super suit, and ran back to the living room. To Peter's surprise, Tony was there waiting for him. Peter paused in the midst of slipping on his mask. Instead, he let his hands drop to his side and tilted his head, “What's up dad?” 

“We gotta talk Squirt.” Tony spoke with a slight smile so Peter wasn't too concerned. He took a seat on the couch once his dad gestured for him to do so. Tony took a seat beside him. Peter's foot tapped rapidly against the floor, he wasn't lying when he said that he had people to meet. By people, he meant Wade. And Peter didn't want to be late for their meet up. For the sake of furthering their investigation of course, every minute wasted could cost someone their life. 

“Can we make this quick? I really do have somewhere to be.” Peter said before Tony could get another word in. In his head, Peter ran over anything he might have done wrong. Sure, he was developing a bad habit of staying out too late, but he always gets scolded for that. Something told Peter that this talk was gonna be different. 

“You can relax, Peter, you're not in trouble.” Tony set his hand on Peter's knee to stop it from bouncing. Leave it up to his dad to always know about Peter's quirks, “I- _we_ just wanna know more about your new friend. You never mentioned a name.”

“I didn't?” Peter was just playing dumb. He knew he didn't mention a name, and apparently Tony knew it too. Peter was hoping that they didn't catch onto that, “His name is...” Peter only had a moment to think it over. No sense in lying, “Wade. It's Wade.” 

Tony seemed startled, “Wade? Do we know this Wade?”

Peter shook his head quickly, a little too quickly. It was moments like these that Peter wished he was better at lying, “I don't think so.” 

“Last name?”

Peter gave a slight shrug, “Never asked him.” Another lie. But Peter didn't want to risk saying Wade's full name. Truth be told, Peter had no idea if his parents knew Deadpool's real name. He was perfectly familiar that they knew about Deadpool himself, but his full name? Peter didn't have a clue. But still, he didn't want to take any more chances than necessary. 

“And are you guys just...” Tony shifted his gaze, puzzling on a word to say, “friends?” 

Peter felt the heat rush to his cheek as he stood up quickly, resulting in a head rush. Tony wasn't too far behind to follow his action. 

“Of course we're just friends! Why do you ask?” Peter knew getting flustered wasn't helping his case, but the question caught him off guard. He started to walk towards the windows, pausing once Tony started speaking again but did not follow Peter.

“Because we haven't seen you this happy since you were with Gwen.” 

Peter clenched his fist almost on instinct. He hadn't realized he was doing it until he felt the fabric of his mask scrunch up in his grasp. Could it really be true? Was Wade having the same effect on him that Gwen did? Not wanting to think about it, Peter opened the window and slipped on his Spiderman mask. Before swinging away, he added one last comment to end his conversation with his Dad.

“I might be out late, don't wait up for me.” Peter swung away before he heard what Tony had to say. All Peter did catch was his dad calling after him. But Peter didn't look back. He was barely looking ahead, or where he was going at all. Why did Tony had to bring that up now? Of all times he had to bring it up, it was right before Peter was going to meet up with Wade. The thought was obviously going to get in his head. His parents haven't seen him this happy since Gwen? _Gwen?_ Sure they were friends now, but Peter was broken hearted after Gwen happened. If he was beginning to act around Wade like he did with Gwen, Peter sure as hell didn't want the same ending. Never again, he once told himself. Never again. 

~~

“Hey baby boy!” Wade called to Peter as he was still swinging in the air, about to land on their usual rooftop meet up. Wade had his arms outstretched, as if he wanted to catch Peter, “What took you so long?”

Peter made sure to land a few feet away from Wade. Once he did, the merc's arms immediately dropped to his sides, “There was a hold up at home. Sorry 'bout that.” 

“No worries, sweetums. Shall we be off?” Wade grinned beneath his mask and over dramatized the motion of swinging his arm around Peter's shoulder, planning to take him into an embrace. Swiftly, Peter dodged Wade's demonstration of affection, walking a few paces ahead, nearly to the edge of the roof. This left Wade puzzled, but Peter didn't look back to see Wade's confused stance. He shot a web from his wrist to the building across the street. 

“Wanna race?” Peter tried to brush this suggestion off as casual. That was a casual 'just friends' type thing to do right? Friends raced each other all the time. It was normal. His relationship with Wade was a normal one. For the past few weeks that they've been working with each other have been nothing but normal. Their relationship did develop into friendship, Peter will admit that much. Tony didn't know what he was talking about. Everything about him and Wade was normal. 

“Is that really fair?” Wade came and stood beside Peter. Almost too close. Naturally, that hit the panic button within Peter so he spoke as quickly as he could. 

“Nope, but we're gonna race anyway! See ya!” Peter took off, once again Wade was left startled and confused. Peter knew as well as Wade did that he wasn't acting like himself. With a hefty shrug, Wade decided to brush it off and chase after Spiderman. As suspected, Peter was the first to arrive at the lab.

“Slow poke.” Peter teased but his voice lacked his usual humour, his smile lacked his usual joy. Peter was fully aware that he wasn't acting like he normally would in front of Wade. The reason? Peter knew all too well, but he was trying to convince himself that this mission was a serious one and there was no time for jokes. 

“Hey, other than my healing factor I don't have any superpowers Mr. Web-slinging-high-flying Fancy Pants.” Wade grumbled, he was a sore loser. 

“Web-slinging what now? Was that the best name you could really come up with? I'll be honest with you Wade, not your best one.”

“Hey you're the one-” Wade began but Peter cut him off.

“Shut up for a second.” Peter snapped and peaked inside the lab door. No one seemed to be in the waiting room and his Spidey-sense wasn't going off. Nonetheless Peter cautiously opened the door, just in case there was someone waiting on the other side. After last time, Peter didn't want to take any chances. Thanks to Tony, he was already in a bad mood, but being back here just made it worse. Last time his Spidey-sense didn't pick up on anyone in the building. And thanks to that carelessness, Wade got hurt. Peter would be lying if he said he didn't feel responsible for it. But this time was going to be different, they'll search the whole place. And this time, no one was going to die. 

“Wade, go check the other room.” Peter barked orders, catching a glimpse of surprise on Wade's masked face. 

“Alright, bossy pants.” Wade murmured and went to check the only other room on the main floor. Peter finished securing the waiting room and the receptionist desk then went to join Wade in the animal testing room. He peaked his head inside, “Find anything, or anyone?”

“Nope.” Wade popped the 'p', by the tone of his voice Peter knew that he was getting annoyed, “Just the animals. Not as many as the other times though. They must be cutting down.” 

“Let's go check the basement.” Peter rushed out, heading towards the waiting room again. He kicked aside the carpet and saw the closed trap door. He cursed beneath his breath.

“You forgetting something Petey?” Wade called out and Peter looked up at the sound of his voice. Wade was leaning in the doorway, swinging the key on his finger. 

“Yeah, now come unlock it.” Peter was thankful for his Spiderman mask that was covering his reddened face. Tonight was definitely not his night. And despite Peter's asking, Wade didn't budge. If anything, he leaned more heavily against the doorway. Was Wade taunting him? 

“Not until you tell me what's up.” Wade's voice was firm and Peter suddenly felt like a little kid again. 

“What?” Peter tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He didn't want to snap at Wade, it's not like he did anything. This time Peter was pissed off for other reasons than Wade. Shocking.

“You've been acting weird all evening. You were fine in the afternoon, but now you're all grumpy. Did something happen at home?” As Wade spoke there was something peculiar in his tone. But Peter couldn't place it. 

“No- I mean yes- I mean-” The more Peter talked, the tighter his stomach felt. Almost to the point where he felt sick. He wanted to tell Wade what happened. All about his talk with Tony. But how could he? For one thing, it was embarrassing. For another, Peter only use to open up to one person. Gwen. Maybe Tony was onto something, but it was too soon for Peter to admit it, “We don't have time for this Wade! Every moment I waste talking to you could be another life gone!”

“Then how 'bout you hurry up and explain why you're being such a dick tonight!” Wade shouted back, taking Peter by surprise. Peter was soon to learn that although he hates when people yell, he hates it even more when Wade does it. However, Wade's shouting didn't calm the anger within Peter. If anything, it just provoked it.

“Give.Me.The.Key.” Peter now glared at Wade and he knew that despite his mask, Wade could feel his harsh gaze. Peter held out his hand, waiting for Wade to put the key in it. But, of course, Deadpool did the exact opposite of that. He closed his fist around the golden key. In a fit of rage, Peter made a pathetic attempt at snatching the key from Wade's grip with one of his webs. But Deadpool latched onto his web before it even hit him. Wade tugged and Peter went stumbling forward. He expected Deadpool to move out of the way so he would hit the wall or fall down or something, but instead Peter hit Wade's chest. Deadpool wrapped his arms around Spiderman. Just like that, Peter's anger dissipated, “Wade? What are you doing?”

“I'm hugging you, what the fuck does it look like?” Wade half sounded angry, half something else. It was that unidentifiable tone again. 

“I know that you ass, I meant why?” 

“Because I don't know what else to do!” Wade was yelling, but he didn't sound mad, “I'm trying to fucking comfort you. But do you think I know how? I'm shit at this Peter! With people and emotions and tough shit like that. Now stop being a little dick and hug me back so I know I'm at least doing something right.” 

Peter blinked, feeling like a clueless idiot. That's what Wade was trying to do? He was trying to get Peter to open up about his problems so he could help? Now that Peter thought about it, it should have been obvious from the start. That tone in Wade's voice? It was concern. It was him trying to genuinely care instead of just joking his way through everything. Slowly but surely, Peter wrapped his arms around Wade in return. 

A moment of silence passed between them before Peter whispered, “I had a talk with my dad before meeting with you. It kinda freaked me out.” Peter opened up to Wade. So maybe Wade did have the same effect on him that Gwen did. So what? That didn't mean it would end the same way. Or so Peter hoped. 

“And did you-uh...did you want to talk about it or something?” Peter could hear the awkwardness in Wade's voice. It was clear that Wade really was telling the truth, he didn't comfort people a lot. It made Peter question just how many people Wade has in his life. 

“I think I'm good.” Peter responded with a slight smile, “Sorry for being a dick.” 

Wade laughed, “I mean, don't get me wrong. I love dick and ass, but in a literal sense. Not so much in personalities.”

“You know what would really comfort me?”

Wade was quick to react to the question. As soon as the last syllables left Peter's mouth, Wade responded, “What?” He was eager.

“If you would open the god damn door.” Peter held back a chuckle as he spoke. This time his voice had no anger or frustration in it. Him and Wade were back to their joking selves. Wade let out a hearty laugh then stepped out of the embrace. He skipped around Peter and knelt down to the trap door, unlocking it and opening it. He gestured for Peter to go first.

“After you me' lady.” 

Peter scoffed playfully, “Such a gentlemen.” He walked down the basement stairs, on alert again. Peter was relieved that the further down they got, his spidey-sense never went off. This time he was certain that him and Wade were alone. The basement didn't change much. It was still dark, still dreary. And everything was still in it's original place. The cork boards. The files. The table. Everything. It looked as if last nights events never happened. Spiderman and Deadpool were never down here. The dude never trapped them. Wade never died. The only indication that someone was down here since last night was that the body was gone. Oh right. Wade killed someone. 

“Hey Spidey! Look!” Wade called and Peter's head followed the sound of his voice. Wade was sitting in the corner of the room, his shoulders hunched and back slouched. Peter instantly caught on to what he was doing. Wade looked dead. Peter narrowed his eyes.

“Not funny Wade!” At Peter's harsh tone, Wade got up and strode his way over to him. Taking his place beside Peter, they looked over the cork boards once more. 

“Aww, c'mon Petey-poo. I was just joking.”

“Petey-poo?” Peter raised his brow at Wade, “That's a new one.” He directed his attention back to the board, the one with the faces of random people on it, “Alright, this is an in and out mission. Let's take the photos we need, call the police, then get out of here. Got the camera?”

“Yup!” Deadpool beamed then pulled a high tech camera from one of his pouches, holding it proudly. He handed it to Peter.

“Now, don't touch anything. We wanna leave no evidence that we were ever here. Got it?” 

“Yes dad.” Deadpool said in a mock tone, “I'm older than you ya know.” 

“Yeah? So?” Peter only half paid attention to what Wade was going off about now. He was more focused on taking pictures of any document he could find. That way Peter could then print them off and have his very own copy. This way, no one would ever suspect anyone was down here and it left everything for the cops. Besides, Spiderman's job was to beat up bad guys, not solve mysteries. 

“So,” Wade continued, “You're talking to me like I'm a child.” In that instant, Peter felt as if he knew Wade completely. Or at least understood him better. Peter knew all too well what it meant to be treated like a child. But instead of apologizing to Wade, Peter decided to laugh it off.

“Wade, you're the biggest child I know.” Despite his joking smile, Peter was telling the truth. Deadpool was like a big man child. 

“I am not! I do plenty of grown up things!” Wade protested and now positioned himself behind Peter. Wade wrapped his arms around the young hero from behind, resting his chin on Peter's shoulder. They were at a point now that Peter didn't question or protest against Wade's actions. Peter learned very quickly that if Wade knew something bothered him, he would do it even more just for the fun of it. And ever since they've been hanging out more and more, Peter grew accustomed and even liked Wade's affection. 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“Sex.” Wade was almost too quick to answer, “I use to have lots of sex. Crazy sex too.” 

“This may be none of my business.” Peter started while still taking photos. If he needed to move, Wade moved right along with him so that he never let go of Peter, “But you said you 'use to' have a lot of sex.”

Wade snorted, “Yeah, duh. Wade Wilson was a sex machine. But nobody wants to have sex with Deadpool.” 

“I do.” The words left Peter's mouth before he had a second to think about it. It wasn't that Peter necessarily wanted to fuck Deadpool, it's that at any moment Wade said something bad about himself Peter would feel a sense of defensiveness. Even if he was defended Wade to himself. However, Peter would be lying if he said he hasn't thought about sex with Deadpool. But those thoughts always came in the midst of night, when Peter was alone, and had nobody to accidentally leak it to. 

“What?” Wade immediately became alert. His grip tightened around Peter's waist, but his chin was no longer on Peter's shoulder. 

“N-nothing! I didn't say anything!” Peter became defensive, too defensive. Shit. Shit. Shit. Peter often thought it was Wade who had the big mouth, he was quickly realizing that it could be the opposite. Peter was suddenly hot, too hot. His entire body blushed, from his face all the way to the tip of his shoulders. Peter knew he was red, thankfully his Spiderman costume was hiding it. 

“Petey-Pie” Wade chuckled darkly, “Did you just give me consent?” At this point, Wade was already slipping his hands beneath Peter's Spiderman shirt. Contrary to belief, the Spiderman suit is a three piece. A mask, a shirt, and of course pants. It use to just be all one thing, but the citizens made fun of the hero for wearing a onesie. Peter put a stop to that quickly, Spiderman was already ridiculed enough. And as of right now, Peter was also feeling pretty ridiculous.

“W-Wade!” Sometimes Peter really wished he could control his own voice instead of being a stuttering mess. But he couldn't help it, one was bound to stutter when someone is snaking their hands up your shirt. And now Deadpool was getting dangerously close to Peter's chest where he would be able to feel Peter's racing heart. And if Wade kept going, soon Peter's cheeks wouldn't be the only thing blood was rushing to, “I do not give my consent!” 

Right away, Wade dropped his hands and went back to hugging Peter's waist. Even without looking at his masked face, Peter could tell that Deadpool was pouting.

“Awww. But you said you wanted to!”

“No, I didn't.” Peter protested and peeled Deadpool off of him, “That never happened. Got it?” 

“But I feel that was some great character development for you!” Wade countered but didn't take Peter back in his embrace. Deadpool may joke a lot and try to make many, many sexual advances on Peter, but that's all they were. Just jokes. Wade knew when to back off 

“I got all the photos we need, let's call the police.” Peter was thankful that he was able to change the topic. He pulled out his phone and quickly called the police, he informed them of an 'illegal drug house' going on at the abandon veterinarian lab then hung up, “Alright, let's leave before we get sighted here.” And that's exactly what the two of them did. They quickly left the lab and started to head back towards Wade's apartment. Overall, Peter would say this night was a success. Besides a few bumps in the road, Peter got what they needed. Once back home, Peter would use his dad's lab to not only print off the photos he took, but also test the drug. Secretly, Peter had stolen a vile of that drug from upstairs. He could only assume that was the most advanced copy of it. Peter planned to keep it a secret from Wade until the tests were run and completed. He didn't want Wade to have another freak out. 

“Pete? Are you listening to me?” Wade's voice dragged Peter back into reality and out of his thoughts. 

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” 

“Nothing. You just looked deep in thought and I wanted to make you feel bad for it.” Wade grinned as they stopped walking, arriving at the apartment complex.

Peter crossed his arms, not because he was mad or anything, it just seemed to be his default position when around Deadpool, “Do you ever pull your head out of your ass?”

“Only when I can put it in yours'.” 

Peter laughed at that comment, “Alright. That was a good one.” He was growing use to, maybe even attached to Wade's sense of humour. It consisted of a little bit of everything. Sarcasm, dark, ironic -and Peter's personal favourite- puns. 

“Are you coming in? Or are we just gonna stand outside looking like idiots?”

Peter thought it over for a moment. There were two things he could do. One: He could call it a night. Go home at a relatively decent hour for once. Or two: He could go inside the apartment with Wade for a few moments, which let's face it, would probably turn into a few hours. Peter knew that he should go home, but when he thought about what, or rather who, was gonna be there Peter found himself not wanting to. He wanted to stay with Wade. And he most definitely did not want to get confronted by Tony. Peter wasn't sure he was ready for another father-son talk. It may not have been the wisest decision, or the most responsible one, but Peter allowed himself to go in with Wade. Even Spiderman needed a break from responsibility once in a while.

“So this is where my book went!” Peter exclaimed, picking up his novel from the living room coffee table. Him and Wade had just barely entered the apartment and immediately Peter spotted his book. 

“I also have your rubik's cube and your shoe.” Wade revealed every object Peter had thought he lost. Wade laid down on the couch on his back. He propped his head up with his hands, “You're starting to leave a lot of stuff here.” Wade pointed out and Peter felt a rush of embarrassment. He hadn't realized that he was starting to leave his things at Wade's place. Well, technically it was Peter's place, but nonetheless Peter didn't realize it before. A part of him knew that his stuff was here, and yet Peter still looked for them at home. He knew why his shoe was here. It was from that night that him and Wade played video games. Peter had to balance a shoe on his head for one round and he guessed that he just ended up forgetting it here. As for the rubik's cube and his science book? Peter couldn't recall when or even why he had brought them here in the first place, let alone leaving them behind.

“Heh...oops.” That's all Peter had to say for himself. What was he suppose to say? It was his apartment anyway, he was allowed to leave stuff here. Then for what reason did Peter feel embarrassed? Desperate to change the subject, Peter looked down at the book in his hand, “You know, I use to be obsessed with biology in high school.” It was a random statement, Peter was aware of that, but it was a biology book and the only thing he could think of to say.

“So even back then you were an adorable nerd.” Wade grinned beneath his mask and Peter could only laugh. It was kind of amusing how they were talking about high school for Peter as if it was so long ago instead of just a year or two, “I tried reading that book when you left it here,” Wade continued, “But I couldn't make sense of it.”

“Not a fan of science?” Peter questioned but already knew the answer. He tapped Wade on the knee, indicated him sit up or at least move his legs so he could sit on the couch. Instead of doing the polite thing and actually moving, Wade did the Deadpool thing and just parted his legs, willingly his eyebrows. Peter took the spot anyway, climbing in between Deadpool's legs and laying his head on his chest. Peter opened his book and began to skim through the pages. 

“See all that? That makes no sense to me.” Wade pointed at book, “The only science-y thing I care about is how to blow something up.” 

“You mean chemistry?”

“Sure, that.”

Peter chuckled at Wade's incompetence towards the science field, “If it makes you feel any better. I can't make much sense of this book right now either.” Despite not being able to see it, Peter knew Wade tilted his head to the side.

“Why not?”

“I don't have my glasses on right now, I can't see the words very well.” Peter rarely told anyone that he needs glasses. The reason why he told Wade was just a spur of the moment type thing. Peter was distracted, running his fingers along the edge of the white pages. It just sort of slipped out. Not that his glasses were a big deal, it just wasn't something he shared often because there was no need to. 

“My baby boy wears glasses?” Peter nodded his head at Wade's comment, then went on to correct him.

“Well, they're reading glasses. So I don't need to wear them all the time.”

“Wait,” Wade sat up a little bit, causing Peter to slide further down his body, “I thought you had, like, heightened sense or something. Why would you need glasses to read?”

“That's precisely why I need them.” Peter sat up and turned slightly so he was now facing the masked merc. Peter, on the other hand, had taken off his mask the moment he stepped through the door, “Most people need glasses to heighten their eye sight right? My glasses do the exact opposite, they calm my senses down. My eyes want to read faster than my brain can keep up so sometimes the words get all jumbled or the page would be too bright and I can't look at it very long. So Tony made me some glasses that would help with that.” 

“Tony?” Of course that had to be the part Wade picked up on. Out of everything Peter had just said, Wade decided to comment on the Tony part, “Tony who?” 

Once again Peter had two options. He could either say Tony is the name of one of his dads -which would be telling the truth- or say that it was in fact Tony Stark, which would also be the truth. But as much as Peter trusted Wade, he still wasn't ready to reveal that his parents were IronMan and Captain America. If he told Wade that Tony was his dad, then Wade might ask about his other dad or clue in that Peter was the mysterious child that Steve and Tony took under their wing. And if Peter told Wade that it was Tony Stark, then he would question why Tony Stark for one knew Spiderman's identity, and hangs out with Peter. There was no real winning. 

“Tony Stark.” Peter answered, deciding that Tony Stark was the better of the two options. This way Wade would only question why a super genius would hang out with a nobody like Peter.

“Wait, I didn't think Spiderman was an Avenger.” That wasn't the reaction Peter was expecting, then again, barely anything about Deadpool was predictable. 

“I'm not.” Peter grumbled, feeling a sense of bitterness creep into his tone, “I'm just...friends with them.” It wasn't a total lie. Peter was friends with the Avengers...kinda. They were more like family to him. But friends and family are basically the same thing. 

The two left it at that. Wade snuggled back down on the couch and Peter back on Wade's chest. Peter didn't know how, or at even what point in their conversation that he decided to close his eyes, but he did. And sooner than Peter knew it, he had fallen asleep on Wade. Peter didn't plan on falling asleep, and he definitely didn't plan to accidentally staying the night. But that's the thing about Peter's life. Nothing ever went according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Holiday break is over and I return to hell. But I'll try to keep my posting schedule of every Wednesday and Saturday the same.


	13. Chapter 12

“Just touch my cheek before you leave me, angel” Wade sang along to the music on the radio as he was preparing for tonight. For the third time that evening, Wade checked the oven, making sure that the food he was cooking wasn't burning. Tonight was the night, and Wade wanted to make sure it was extra special. That's why he was making a home cooked meal inside of his usual take out, there would be no cheap Chinese food tonight. He also spent the morning and afternoon cleaning his apartment. And that's why he went out to the store to buy candles and even flowers. Because tonight was a very special night for Wade, and soon he hoped it would be a special night for Peter too. They had been doing this 'testing the waters' thing for quite some time now. A month, maybe two? Wade was ready to take it to the next step, hell, he was ready to fucking marry Peter the first day that he met Spiderman. That would probably be moving to fast for his sweet little Peter though, so Wade figured asking him if he wanted to make things 'official' was a better next step. And that's what tonight was suppose to be all about. Wade was going out of his way to make this a romantic night. Everyone loved a little romance right? Even socially awkward superhero nerds. And to be honest, romance isn't one of Wade's strong suits, but he can sure as hell try. 

{Our idea of a romantic evening consist of sex. That's not very romantic.}

“Do you not see what I'm doing here? I'm being romantic as fuck. Sex with Petey hasn't even crossed my mind today.” Wade argued but immediately knew what his brain was going to rebuttal. 

[That's a lie.]

{We think about sex with Petey-Pie all the fucking time. I'd be surprise if he went a day not thinking about his gorgeous ass.}

Wade paused in his cooking to fantasized Peter's ass. But while at it, Peter's ass wasn't the only thing Wade reminisced about. Every so often, Wade liked to think back on him and Peter's time together, just all the cute moments they have shared. 

[I think he's going soft on us.]

{It's official, we're a sap.}

“Guys, I have not gone soft.” Wade protested but knew it was no use. He didn't need his brain telling him that he had fallen head over heals for Peter, Wade was perfectly aware of that himself and the fact that he has gone soft. But it was all for Peter's sake. And if going soft meant more time to stare at Spiderman's ass, Wade was prepared to turn into a marshmallow.

[You have too gone soft. Remember the first time you made him pancakes?]

“Of course I do. That would be the morning of the first night Peter slept over here. Which was last chapter.”

[And the morning that you practically spilled out your backstory to him. We don't just share our past with anyone.]

{Oh! Let's do a flash back!}

“Is a flashback really necessary? I mean, what good does it do the plot?”

[Well 1. It will show development in the relationship. And 2. It'll be super cute for the readers to read themselves, instead of us just telling them.]

{Besides, this whole chapter is basically just gonna be flash backs to fluffy moments in your guys' relationship.}

“Wait, this whole chapter? Why?”

[Because the author really wanted to write yours' and Peter's dinner date in Peter's perspective. Well, still in third person obviously, but more focused on Peter and shit. You get what I mean.]

“Won't people find this chapter boring though?”

{This is a SpideyPool fanfiction. Read by SpideyPool trash. And you think they'll find a bunch of cute fluffy moments between you and your baby boy boring? Know your audience man.}

“Fair point. Let the flash back begin then. But I'm gonna keep cooking.”

{Alright, softy.}

~~

Wade saw Peter squirm on the couch. He didn't know if it was the sound of sizzling batter that woke Peter up or the sounds of a New York morning. Either way, the young hero was now jolted awake and pushing himself up on his elbows. From where Wade was standing he could see confusion on Peter's face and hear the grogginess in his voice.

“Wade?” Peter's voice was horsed, still thick with the morning drowsy. 

“Yes Sweetums?” Wade chimed, flipping another pancake onto the stack that he had beside him. 

“What time is it?”

“It is...” Wade's voice trailed off as he quickly glanced up at the wall clock, “7:32 on a lovely Sunday morning. And now, the weather with Jerry Picket. How's it looking out there Jerry?” Wade glanced over to Peter, half expecting him to play along, half expecting him to roll his tired eyes. Peter did neither. Instead, his baby boy just groaned and flopped back down on the couch.

“My dads are going to be so pissed.” Peter muttered into a couch cushion. Wade frowned, wishing he knew some way to console Peter. 

“Why don't you just call them or something? Let them know you're okay.” Wade offered lamely. It was the best he could come up with, although he suggested it with a heavy heart. If Peter called his dads, maybe they would want him to come home immediately. He didn't want Peter to leave, not before breakfast at least. Wade didn't voice his concerns and so Peter pulled out his phone.

“And to which of the 37 messages that my dads sent me to I respond to?” Peter asked sarcastically. Wade sensed he didn't really want an answer, “Aw shit, my aunt even tried reaching me. Don't tell me they got her involved too.”

“Your aunt-” Wade didn't have time to finish his sentence, getting cut off by Peter's phone ringing. 

“Speak of the devil.” Peter muttered before answering his cell. Wade tried his best not to listen in on Peter's conversation, but since there was no wall separating the kitchen from the living room, Wade couldn't help but overhear Peter's part of the phone call.

“Hey Aunt May.” Peter paced back and forth in the living room, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes, yes I'm fine.”

“I just stayed out too late at a friend's house and accidentally spent the night, that's all.”

“You don't know him.”

“His name is Wade.”

“No, I'm not telling you where he lives. You can't come see him right now!” 

Peter let out a heavy sigh, “Because Aunt May, we're busy.”

“Yes, I promise you can meet him some other time.”

“I don't know when.”

“No, I haven't spoken to my dads yet, I just woke up.”

“Yes, I know I should call them but you called me first.”

“Look- Aunt May- I know-” Peter groaned, barely able to get a word in, “Aunt May I gotta go Wade is waiting for me okay love you bye!” Peter hung up as quickly as he said that last sentence. Wade was pretending to not have been listening, paying extra attention to the pancake cooking in front of him. It was the last one of the batch. Peter walked in the kitchen and slumped down on a kitchen stool, resting his face flat on the table, “Do you have any crazy relatives, Wade?” 

Wade laughed softly. His whole family had some fucking mental problems. He decided to keep it on the down low though, “Heh, no, no crazy relatives.” To tell the truth, Wade didn't know much about his family. He wasn't close with them. He assumed most of them were bad people, “I did know a May once though.” Wade added on, grabbing the plate full of pancakes and setting it on the table. 

“Really? What was she like?” Peter asked, sitting up properly this time. He offered to help Wade set the table, but Wade refused. Peter was more or less his guest. 

“When I knew her? Nice middle aged lady. She was married to a...” Wade hesitated on the name, he couldn't remember it. He was never close to the guy like he grew close with May for the few years of his teens that he did stay with her. Until he ran away, “Bernie? I think his name was Bernie.” 

“Guess we're not talking about the same May then.” Peter shrugged as Wade finished setting the table, completing the set with a bottle of maple syrup in the middle. Wade served up the pancakes and the two began eating. Peter nearly drowned his pancakes in maple syrup. Wade soon found out just how much of a sweet tooth Peter really had. Peter took a big mouthful of the fluffy cake stacked before him. And for the first time in a long, Wade felt nervous about his cooking. He felt some doubt. What if they weren't good? What if Peter didn't even like pancakes? Wade never doubted his cooking, especially not his pancakes. That was the one thing he was a master at, other than murder. Making perfect pancakes was in his Canadian blood! So it kinda set him on edge that now his entire confidence was riding on whether Peter liked his pancakes or not.

“Damn Wade.” Peter began, swallowing his bite, “These are really good. I didn't know you could cook.” 

Wade's nerves melted away. He rolled up his mask and began eating for himself. Both him and Peter were still in their hero costumes, except Peter didn't have his mask on and Wade did.

“Thanks Petey-poo.” Wade tried not to gloat at first. Slowly, Wade was becoming more and more aware of how he acted around Peter. He was getting better at stopping himself from making an inappropriate comment at an inappropriate time. He was getting better at understanding how basic human emotions work. And he was getting better, or at least trying to get better, on being less annoying. Wade already changed his ways on killing, for the most part, he figured another few changes couldn't hurt. He liked to think Peter was bringing out the good in him. It was a stupid thought considering he use to believe there was no good left in him. But still, it's nice to think about it from time to time. 

“Where did you learn to make pancakes like these?” Peter asked while taking another mouthful of the classic breakfast food. 

Wade smiled nervously, looking down at his plate “Uh...my mom actually taught me how. I've been using her recipe ever since.”

“Oh.” Peter said, startled. Not so much to the point of surprise, but just the fact that he probably wasn't expecting that kind of answer, “Were you two close? You and your mum I mean.” 

“Um, yeah. I guess you could say that.” Wade answered awkwardly. It wasn't that he minded talking about his parents, he just couldn't have guess that they would be having this conversation right now over breakfast.

“How old were you when she died?” Peter wondered shyly, his voice quiet when he spoke as if he didn't know if it was okay to talk about this. 

“6...maybe 7 years old? I don't really remember.” Wade stuffed his mouth full of pancakes. Partly because he wanted to shut himself up, and the other part being that he hadn't taken a bite in a while and needed to taste some of his most favourite food. Mexican is a close second. 

“Oh.” Peter said again. The one thing Wade appreciated most about Peter was his awkwardness. It prevented him from saying things like 'I'm sorry to hear that' or 'I'm sorry for your lost' or some shit like that. Wade hated pity, and Peter didn't quite know how to give it. Maybe that's why they work so well together. 

Wade gulped, suddenly feeling the need to fill the silence. Usually Wade is strong in the talking department. I mean, c'mon, merc with a mouth here. But today, Wade's mouth was failing him. It just kept spilling words over and over again no matter how badly Wade wanted to stop talking. He just kept doing it. 

“After that it was just me and my dad, until he sold me to Weapon-X when I was 10. That's when I started running. Then blah blah blah Weapon-X couldn't catch me, my dad was killed, I got sent to May's house when I was like 12 or 13. I stayed there for a few years, ran away, was on my own and that's when I first started mercenary work. I briefly went back to Canada for some military service, bad idea cause Weapon-X eventually caught up to me, boom Deadpool was born and-” Wade paused, his brain finally catching up with his mouth, “-and I'm rambling about my past. Well fuck. Shit, I- I didn't mean- fuck.”

“Wade.” Peter interrupted, therefore shutting Deadpool up, “I don't mind hearing about your past. I like it.” Peter offered Wade a reassuring smile.

“You...do?” Wade spoke with disbelief. It was an odd sensation really, knowing someone actually wanted to listen to you. Especially since that someone once hated hearing you talk and wished numerous times that you would shut up. That's exactly how Wade felt. He wasn't use to people actually wanting him to talk and open but about feelings and shit. And he never expected it to come from Peter. But then again, the kid always had a curious nature to him. And he's been bugging Wade about his past for a while now. Wade never expected him to actually tell Peter about it though. He never told anyone about it.

“Yeah, I do.” Peter confirmed but before their conversation could continue, his phone went off yet again. Peter excused himself from the table to answer the phone, “Hey...Pops.” Wade could not have heard a more distressed tone in Peter's voice. He could tell that his baby boy was really dreading this conversation. Once again, Wade listened in.

“Did Aunt May tell you?” Peter flinched, Wade could only assume he was getting scolded by one of his dads, “Yeah, I'm at Wade's.”

“Because I fell asleep.” 

“Because I was tired.”

“I thought you said you talked to Aunt May. Didn't she fill you in?” 

Peter sighed, his tone slowly getting more and more dreary, “Uh-huh.”

“Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I understand. I'll be home soon.” Peter exhaled softly, ending the phone call. He turned back to face Wade, rubbing his neck, “Sorry to do this, but I gotta go. Parents are pretty mad.”

“Oh.” That's all Wade could manage to say. He expected it of course, why wouldn't Peter have to go home? His dads were obviously worried about him. No, Wade was disappointed because despite knowing Peter had to leave, he didn't want him to leave. Not after last night. Nothing happened between them last night, not out of the ordinary anyway. Peter just fell asleep on Wade's chest last night, so Wade got to hold him all night. He didn't sleep, Wade never slept anymore. In fact, the night was his least favourite time of day because that's when all his thoughts and memories came rushing back to him. Wade's thought boxes would spew awful things at him. Memories of Weapon-X would be brighter despite the world being darker. Wade hated to think, but that's all the night time ever allowed him to do. Until last night. Last night Wade was able to concentrate on something else other than his own thoughts. He could concentrate on running his fingers through Peter's hair, or counting the amount of freckles on Peter's face, or listen to the steady beats of Peter's heart. It was a nice break. A nice rest.

“I'll keep you updated.” Peter offered a smile while gathering up his things, “Thanks for breakfast.”

“What? I don't get a kiss goodbye?” Wade smirk, masking his disappointment. Peter turned in the midst of walking towards the window. He was also in the middle of slipping his Spiderman mask back on, but he paused. To Wade's surprise, Peter walked back towards him and quickly bent down, giving him a light and very quick peck on the cheek before slipping his mask back on and sprinting out the window. It was fast and Wade was barely able to feel it, but that definitely counted as a score in his book. 

Wade didn't see Peter for the next few days. Peter got grounded. 

~~

{See? Wasn't that cute? You almost saw emotion out of us!}

[But there was one thing wrong with the flash back.]

{What?}

[We were completely cut out of it.]

“Well,” Wade began, finally getting a word in, “I think it was to set the tone of the flash back.” 

[That makes sense. Shocking.]

{Should we start the next flash back? I'm thinking the one in the park.}

[Oh that's a nice one.]

Wade rolled his eyes while checking on his sauce, “Just make it quick okay? We don't want this chapter to be too long.”

{I feel like we're breaking the fourth wall too much.}

[Just play the fucking flash back.]

~~

“One ice cream bar and one fudgsicle please. ” Peter ordered their ice cream from the stand in the park while Wade stood a few feet away, back turned to Peter and the man. His hands were stuffed inside the pockets of his grey hoodie and his hood was covering most of his face. Naturally, Wade had his mask on, but this time he left his gloves at home. That was a mistake, not because Wade was overly self conscious of his hands this time, but because the weather was on the cooler side. And now him and Peter were getting ice cream. Not the wisest decision. 

“Here's your ice cream bar.” Peter came up and handed Wade his treat. With a quick flip of his mask, Wade began eating. 

“Shall we?” Wade held out his elbow for Peter to take. And that's just what Peter did. Now the sleeves of their oversized sweaters were meshed together. Wade was wearing his classic grey one, it made him feel like he blended in better. As for Peter, he was wearing his red sweater. Big, bright and baggy. It was hella cute on him though, so Wade didn't mind. 

The two walked along the paved trail of the park. Ever so often Wade would glance at Peter and giggle. Peter ignored it the first few times. But the more Wade looked at Peter, the more he would giggle. 

“Something funny Wade?” Peter asked, raising a brow at the masked man. 

“No, it's just if I keep watching you eat that fudgsicle I might get a boner.” Wade answered simply, causing Peter to halt in his tracks and practically start to choke. But because their elbows were linked, Peter was forced to stumble forwards. 

“W-why?” Peter stuttered and by the way his face turned pink, Wade could tell he immediately regretted it, “On second thought don't-”

“Blowjob.” Wade answered quickly before Peter could tell him not to. Why? Just for the hell of it. Flustered Peter was on Wade's top 10 cutest things in the world, “Now I know what your blowjob face looks like.”

“My blowjob face does not look like that!” Peter said that loudly. Too loudly. Passer-bys were staring. That didn't help the little dork's embarrassment. In fact, Peter was so ashamed that he unhooked his arm from Wade's and took off. Wade quickly followed after him, feeling something he doesn't often feel, guilt. After a few moments of running, Wade started to fall behind until he completely lost sight of Peter.

“Fuck. Note to self, no blowjob jokes in public.” Wade scratched his head, looking around. This park scenery looked just like the last. Paved pathway, people, and trees. The only difference was that there was a pond near here with ducks swimming in it. Also a bench. There was a bench, “Shit. Peter?! Where the hell did you go to!?” Wade shouted, hoping that Peter would hear him. 

“I'm up here.” A small voice replied and Wade looked up. There he was. Peter was perched in a tree, hiding from anyone in plain sight. Wade laughed softly to himself before climbing up the tree and joining Peter on the branch. 

“Hey baby boy.” Wade started, but that was about as far as he got. He had no idea what to say next. 

“Hey, Wade.” Peter stated back but, unlike Wade, he was able to continue, “Sorry about running off.”

Wade smiled halfheartedly, “Sorry for making a blowjob joke.” 

Peter gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, “It wasn't your fault. I got flustered and embarrassed and when that happens, my voice tends to go higher so...yeah.”

Wade couldn't help but chuckle, “I've noticed. It's cute.” 

A light silence fell over the two of them. Wade watched Peter open and close his mouth a few times, debating on something to say. In the end, Peter ended up saying it.

“Wade, I-...I think I understand why you wear your mask all the time now.”

This caught Wade off his guard, so much that he nearly fell out of his tree. Once he regained his composure, he didn't look back at Peter. Instead, he looked at the bark of the tree, tracing his finger along the pattern of it. 

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” Wade braced himself for the worst of answers. 

“Because people would stare at you if you didn't, cause people are assholes like that. And having all those eyes on you all the time, it would be hell.” As Peter explained, Wade was surprised about how accurate he was, “Just in those few seconds that people were staring at me, it was like the whole world stopped and all I could feel were their eyes.”

Wade stopped tracing he bark, glancing only slightly over his shoulder to look at Peter. Peter wasn't looking back at him though, he was staring at the ducks in the pond.

“So I guess what I'm trying to say is,” Peter continued, “is that I get why you're so attached to your mask, and when you are ready to take it off in front of me, I promise I won't stare.” Peter turned his head towards Wade and smiled, “Alright?” 

Wade stared blankly at Peter, not that the arachnid-kid could tell because of, well, Wade's mask. But he stared nonetheless. And he stared and he stared and he stared. Wade couldn't think of a single word to say, no syllables came to his mind. It was just blank.

“I uh, I don't really have a smartass joke to say to that.” Wade admitted, going back to looking at the tree, “So in that case, thank you.”

Peter set his hand on Wade's shoulder, he could practically feel Peter's warm smile burn his into his skin, “Anytime.” 

“Hey Pete, look.” Wade quickly changed the topic, his old self returning, “A spider.” Wade let a small spider climb off a branch of the tree and onto his finger. 

“What!? Where!?” Peter was so quick to scrambled away from Wade that he fell out of the tree. Wade blinked at the empty space beside him then glanced down to the ground. Peter was laying on the ground rubbing his head.

“Petey, sweetums, are you okay?” Wade called from above. Peter gave a weak thumbs up from down below. That's when it clued in to Wade, “Wait, are you afraid of spiders?”   
Peter didn't answer, he just sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. That was all the confirmation Wade needed before he busted out laughing.

“W-wait!” Wade manage to speak between his laughs, though not very fluently, “Spiderman i-is afraid of- of spiders?!” Wade laughed harder at the irony of it all. However, Karma soon payed its toll because Wade too, fell out of the tree. Luckily Peter rolled out of the way just in time before Wade landed on him. It was Peter's turn to die of laughter. They laughed for god knows how long. Seconds, maybe minutes. But the two boys were left panting and wiping tears from their eyes, “In all seriousness though,” Wade continued once he was able to speak again, “Are you seriously afraid of spiders?”

Peter gave a cheeky yet innocent grin and a light shrug, “What can I say? I hate creepy crawly things.”

“Oh that is too good.” Wade let out a last laugh before sighing contently.

“Come on, you must have some stupid fear.” Peter rolled onto his stomach and Wade followed his action. They both laid in the grass, picking pieces from the ground. 

“Hm, lemme think.” Wade paused to actually think it over, “I hate cows.”

Peter let slip an abrupt 'ha' before speaking, “Cows? Are you being for real?”

“Scout's honour.” Deadpool replied, “Cows are fucking creepy man.”

“What about cows scare you?”

“Honestly? No idea. Cows are just so...” Wade squinted his eyes beneath his mask, “Unpredictable.”

This threw the boys into another fit of laughter. That whole afternoon, they never seemed to stop laughing.

~ 

Wade smiled to himself as he chopped up some vegetables, that was one of Wade's favourite moments with Peter. Maybe this flash back thing wasn't so bad.

{Want one more?}

Wade glanced at the clock, “It's 5:38, Petey-Pie is gonna be here at six. Do we have time for one more?”

[Of course we do. The author controls the time in this story.]

{One more! One more! One more!}

“Alright, alright. Last one.” 

[But which one?]

{I know the perfect one.}

“Which is which one?” Wade felt a bit ridiculous having to asking himself something he should already know. 

{The time we totally got bottomed by our Petey.}

Wade grinned. He loved that story.

~~

Wade was just watching TV when Peter came through his door. Like, he actually used the door this time. He was dressed as Peter rather than Spiderman, so Wade assumed that was why. It was 6 on a Thursday night. And Thursday night meant movie night. Although movie night was suppose to start at 5, that's when Peter gets off of work. 

“Sorry I'm late, Jameson kept me over time.” Peter grumbled, tossing his shoulder bag aside and immediately flopped on the couch. He buried his head on Wade's lap, his arms outstretched in front of him. Wade knew this routine. After a long day at work, that's when Peter craved affection the most. Although he would never admit it, Wade always secretly prayed that Peter would have a long or bad day at the Bugle so Wade could be the one to comfort him. Wade tangled his fingers in Peter's hair. 

“That's okay baby boy.” Wade soothed, stroking Peter's head, “Do you wanna pick the movie?” 

Peter nodded and Wade handed him the remote. Together, they browsed through Netflix, but both Peter and Wade knew what movie was gonna be picked. It was none other than the movie _Tangled,_ one of Peter's favourite Disney movies. They've watched this movie before on movie night. Each time they had the argument on who was more attractive, Rapunzel or Flinn Rider. And for the Disney nerds out there, Rapunzel or Eugene. And every time the argument ended with the same conclusion. Eugene was much hotter. Both Wade and Peter were clueless as to why they kept arguing the same thing each time they saw the movie, just to come to the same agreement. It was more of a tradition now. 

 

“I'll get it this time, I swear!” Wade would swear on his scout's honour again, but he knew that had little value.

“Wade, if you didn't get it the first eleven times, you're not gonna get it now.” Peter half complained, half joked. He was currently surrounded by a pile of discarded popcorn pieces. Some on the floor, some on the couch. _Tangled_ was still playing in the background, but Peter and Wade decided to play a game while watching the movie too. Currently, they were attempting to throw pieces of popcorn into each other's mouths. Wade's leg were stretched out on the couch and his back was in a constant slouch. Peter sat between Wade's legs and the only thing separating them was the popcorn bowl near Wade's crotch.

“Please, just one more try!” Wade begged, already picking out the perfect piece of popcorn to throw. 

“Fine.” Peter gave in, unable to resist Wade's pouting lip. He use to find it annoying, now it was cute, “But aim away from my eye this time.”

“Hey I said I was sorry. Now open up.” 

Peter did what he was told and tilted his head back, opening his mouth. This time, however, he closed his eyes for safety precautions. Seconds later he felt something light and fluffy land in his mouth. It was the piece of popcorn. 

“Hey you did-” Peter titled his head back down, about to congratulate Wade, but before he knew it he was cut off. Wade had quickly pressed his lips against Peter's.

“Ha Ha!” Wade mock-laughed, “Stole a kiss from you. I win.” 

“Win?” Peter questioned, “What exactly did you win? I didn't realize there was a competition going on.”

Wade grinned, his mouth being the only visible part of his face, “Aww, Spidey is a sore loser.” It was a trait they both shared. Wade and Peter equally hated losing. 

“I didn't lose anything, we weren't competing.” Peter started to get defensive, using his stern voice. Wade didn't mind, assertive Petey was hot. Any version of Petey was hot. Petey is hot.

Wade leaned in close to his baby boy, smirking, “We were so. And I won.” 

“Oh yeah?” Peter smirked right back then quickly pressed his lips against Wade's, “Well I stole the kiss back. So ha.”

“Alright smartass. You wanna play? Let's play.”

“You're the one who started it!” That was about all Peter got to say before Wade pulled him in, knocking the popcorn bowl over. Peter would have to clean that up later, god knows Wade wouldn't do it until next week. 

The only difference between this kiss and the last one was that this one was a little longer and more needy. Peter described Wade as a hungry kisser before, but now he was needy. Not needy as in like an annoying little shit, but needy as in it's like he's been waiting a long time for this. Like his patience finally snapped and Wade was taking what he needed after an eternity's wait. That's what it felt like and that's what Peter read into it, but he didn't know how to feel about it.

“Top that Spider-boy.” Wade teased once he pulled back. Peter, convinced that he was fueled by the need to win and absolutely nothing else, he replied with a huff.

“I will Taco-breath.” 

“I didn't even eat tacos today.” That was the last thing Wade said before Peter took him by his jaw and kissed him. How would he describe Peter? Peter was what Wade referred to as an 'ice cube kisser.' Tense and frozen at first, kinda giving off a cold vibe. Peter never started out a kiss -if he ever initiated a kiss in the first place- really 'into it.' It was just in his awkward nature. But then, the longer the kiss lasted, or rather the longer an ice cube was left out, it started to melt. And that's how Peter was. He would take a few seconds to get into the kiss then he'd eventually melt into it, as would the recipient of the kiss. Peter had this strange way to make Wade melt. Now that he thought about it, Wade felt more like the ice cube. Or a puddle. All these metaphors were hurting his brain. 

Peter definitely topped Wade on the kiss, big time. During it, he had moved himself onto Wade's waist and was practically keeping Wade in place by his jaw. Sometimes Peter's super strength really came in handy. And his back was arched perfectly. Like in those pictures of fanart, yeah, that was actually happening. Now don't misunderstand here, by no means is Wade a bottom. The closest thing Wade comes to being a bottom is on the rare occasion that he's the little spoon. He tried to be the little spoon with Peter once before, but due to his larger structure over the lanky boy, it didn't work out too well. But now that Peter was physically on top of Wade, he realized how hot it could be to be a bottom. Maybe he should investigate the role of a power bottom. That could be fun. 

Wade only realized his mind was starting to wander after Peter pulled away. That's when he was snapped back into the reality of the situation. Peter was inches away from his face and the two of them were panting. Peter left them both panting. _Peter._ The awkward dork. The guy who use to hate Deadpool. He was the cause of their lack of breath. Wade was shocked, all he could do was look at Peter's reddened face with awe.

“Do- do I win?” Peter was the one to break the silence. 

“Yeah.” Wade gulped, “You win.”

~~

{Our baby boy is so grown up!}

[Hey we don't have much of the page left so we better wrap this up quickly.]

{Oh alright. Jackass, your food is burning.}

It took Wade a minute to realized that his thought boxes were talking to him. And then another moment to process what they were talking about. In fact, Wade smelt it before he realized what was going on. His food was burning.

{I just said that.}

“Aw fuck!” Wade rushed to the oven and pulled out his pan- pot- thingy. Whatever food was inside was now just a burnt pile of shit, “Well that's just fucking great.”

[You should have paid attention to your cooking instead of the flash backs.]

“Fuck you.” Wade mumbled and proceeded to dump out all the food he prepared. He glanced at the clock, fifteen minutes before Petey-Pie's suppose to arrive. Wade thought of a quick alternative to dinner. 

Looks like they were gonna have Chinese food after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be doing homework, but Spideypool fluff is much more appealing.


	14. Chapter 13

**Wear something nice.**

Peter read the text Wade had sent him over two hours ago for about the 50th time. Tonight was their date night. Well, Peter wanted the name 'intimate get together' but Wade quickly vetoed that idea. And Wade wanted the name 'trying to get together with Peter night' but Peter was instantly against that idea. They ended up settling on 'date night', dates didn't always have to be between partners, or they could be. At this exact moment, Peter had no idea what him and Wade were. Partners? Maybe. Lovers? Definitely not. Though Wade might disagree. 

“What does he even mean by nice? Like, tuxedo nice? Or my best pair of jeans nice?” Peter muttered to himself, looking through his closet frantically. It was now 5:38, he had a little less than half an hour to get ready.

“If you told us where you were going, we might be able to help a little more.” It was Clint who spoke up. Currently, the entire Avenger's team -minus Peter's dads- were sitting in his room. Clint and Nat were on his bed (Peter made sure to hide his SpideyPool blanket), Thor was sitting on Peter's computer chair, and Bruce was standing awkwardly near the corner of Peter's room. 

“I told you, I'm going to a friend's house. He said to wear something nice.” Peter explained yet again. He, of course, purposely left out who exactly this friend was. All the Avengers knew who Deadpool was, even his real name, so Peter didn't want to risk it, “Besides, what do you guys know about nice clothing?”

“Shouldn't Natasha be more of aid? She is a woman after all.”

“That's horribly stereotypical, Thor.” Nat was quick to snap back. Peter was surprised that she didn't add an extra comment about kicking his ass back to Asgard, “I'm about as much help as Bruce.” Bruce didn't say anything to that, he just smiled and waved awkwardly. 

“Is this like a date? Are you going to a restaurant?” Clint pushed on. Peter felt like he was being interrogated. He wouldn't be surprised if Steve and Tony had put the rest of the team up to this. It was oddly suspicious that they weren't in the room, but Peter quickly pushed away that thought. His dads wouldn't do that, besides, they were busy in the kitchen anyway. 

“Why are you guys even in here?” Peter groaned.

“You're avoiding the question.” Leave it up to Aunt Nat to point out the obvious. Slowly, Peter was feeling himself heat up with mild embarrassment and major annoyance, “Is it a date or not?”

“No- I mean- maybe? I don't know!” Peter didn't mean to shout, but it came out as that anyway. He was under a lot of pressure and short for time, “There's just a friend of whom I've been...seeing...and we get together every so often to like, hang out and...stuff.” That was the best explanation Peter could come up with to describe his relationship with Wade. 

“Just for the record,” Clint began, “Your friend is a dude, right?”

“Um, yeah.” Peter answered, hoping that they couldn't detect the waver in his voice, “Why?” It's not like the Avengers could be against a same sex partner, hell, half of them were probably anything but straight. So Peter wasn't too worried about that, but then again, why would Clint want to clarify that?

“Yes! Thor, that's 10 bucks my friend!” Clint jumped up from Peter's bed while Thor rummaged around for his ten dollars. Peter, on the other hand, was left very confused.

“Care to explain?” Peter crossed his arms. He'd hate to waste more time, six pm was approaching fast, but his curiosity got the best of him.

“Me and Thor had a bet going on.” Clint started and Peter was beginning to regret asking, “We had to guess at what age you'd come to terms with your sexuality. Without going over of course. I guessed 16, Thor guessed 25.”

“I didn't realize Midgardians could recognize their sexuality so quickly.” Thor defended himself but Peter was not interested in their justifications.

“Yeah- well-” Shit, the insult game. Peter was no good at it as everyone already knows, “It's not like you're very straight Uncle Thor!” Yup. That was seriously the best Peter could come up with before he turned back to his closet.

“Gender nor sexuality matters to Asgardians or Frost-giants.”

After that last comment from Thor, Peter finally snapped, “Can everyone please get out of my room!” It was now ten to six and Peter couldn't get any thinking done with the Avengers sitting in his room. And thankfully, they respected his wish and they all shuffled one by one. Clint didn't leave without ruffling Peter's hair first. Now that they were gone, Peter could finally concentrate.

“Peter?”

At first Peter didn't recognize the voice and he reacted before thinking, “Okay fine! If you guys want to call it a date I guess it's a date! Now please leave me alone!”

“Peter.” The voice called again and then this time Peter realized it was Steve. He sighed.

“Sorry Pops, I thought you were Clint again.” Peter brought his fingers to his temples and rubbed, fighting off a headache. Peter heard Steve walk in and the soft click of the door closing. Suddenly his room was filled with a sweet scent. Peter glanced over his shoulder to look at his dad, he was holding a plate.

“Everyone said you were stressed so I brought you cookies.” Steve explained, setting the plate on Peter's computer desk, “What was that about a date?”

Peter almost laughed to himself, basically giving up on the thought of being on time to Wade's, “It's nothing. They were just teasing me about tonight.”

Steve took a seat on Peter's bed, tapping the spot next to him for Peter to sit. Peter took the spot, already knowing what conversation was about to happen, “You know Peter,” Steve began, “If you and your, um, friend are in a romantic relationship, it's okay to tell us. Your dad and I will be perfectly okay with it, whoever it is. The only thing is that we would want to meet him.”

No. Absolutely not.

Peter stood up abruptly, his shoulders stiff, “Oh wow um geez Pops. I-I dunno. That may not be such a good idea.” 

“His name is Wade, right?” Steve remained seating, not planning on leaving Peter's room any time soon.

Peter wouldn't, _couldn't,_ turn around to face his father. Peter knew that his expression would give it all away. It would be a shame if his parents found out Peter's 'mystery friend' and 'potential romantic interest' was actually Deadpool. Especially since Peter tried so hard to keep any encounter he's had with Deadpool a secret. But sooner or later, Peter knew his parents would catch on. Peter always hoped for the later option.

“Um, yeah.” Peter stated awkwardly as he was pulling out a flannel shirt from his closet, pretending to inspect it closely, “I'm guessing dad told you?” Peter pulled off his current shirt, this flannel one was gonna have to do. It was kind of fancy...well...it was one of Peter's nicer ones that's for sure. 

“And...you're sure we don't already know him?” At that remark, Peter couldn't help but get the feeling that his parents were catching on. This caused Peter's hands to shake as he tried to button up his shirt. He couldn't even get one button done. Steve saw his son's struggle and got up from the bed. With only a step or two, Steve was now in front of Peter and started buttoning his shirt for him, “Are your Spidey-senses acting up again? You know you don't have to go out as Spiderman as often as you do. It's okay to take breaks sometimes. Give yourself a rest.”

“No, Pops, I'm fine.” Peter chuckled lightly, “Besides, you know I can't do that. If I take a break then that's when the all the villains are gonna conveniently plan their big attack. That'll happen with my luck anyway. And you know Jameson will have my ass for that. I-I mean butt.”

“I know.” Steve smiled sympathetically and finished Peter's shirt, placing his hands on Peter's arms afterwards and rubbing them, “I just wanna make sure my baby’s okay.” 

Peter set his hands on Steve's, “I'm fine, Pops, honest.” After a moment, Peter added, “Do you think a bow tie would be over doing it?” 

“I think you would look adorable with a bow tie.”

“So that's a yes then.” Peter smiled and went towards his computer desk. He picked up the plate of cookies, “Mind if I take these to Wade's?” 

“Go ahead.” Steve's smile turned kind and Peter returned the expression, picking up the plate of cookies and going over to kiss Steve on the cheek.

“Thanks Pops, I'll text you if I'm gonna be late.” And their conversation was left at that. With quick goodbyes to everyone else, Peter left Stark Tower at 6:01. 

~~

“It's open!” Wade's voice came from the other side of the door once Peter rang his doorbell. Peter opened the door and walked inside. To his surprise, all the lights were turned off and from first glance, Wade was nowhere to be seen. The entire apartment appeared dark at first, but Peer soon realized that it was dimly lit by some candles placed both on the kitchen and living room table. The last rays of the evening sun still filtered through the window, so the room wasn't completely dark. It was also lit by four lamps, one placed in each corner of the main living space. Peter couldn't help but wonder when Wade went out to get those, the lamps were a new addition. 

“Wade? Where are you?” Peter called out, doing a full 360 turn in search for the mercenary. 

“Baby-boy, is that you?” Wade replied and seconds later he appeared in the entrance of the hall. He was wearing nothing but a French maid dress and his horribly unmatching Deadpool mask. Peter busted out laughing. 

“What the hell is that?” He had to wipe a few tears away from his eyes, nearly hunching over from laughing so hard.

“It's my nice outfit. And I see you wore something nice as well. You know what would have been super adorable though? A bow tie.” Wade said and Peter decided he would dwell on the irony of this situation later, “I also see that you brought something?”

“Yeah, my dad made some cookies and I decided to bring a plate of 'em.” Peter set the plate down on the kitchen counter and took in the rest of the scenery. Wade, somehow, transformed the shitty little apartment into something half decent. It didn't smell too bad either. Peter was impressed with the table setting. A stout vase filled with flowers for the center piece. The napkins, while being birthday themed and from the dollar store, were folded neatly into swans. The cutlery was in the corrected placing too, as far as Peter could tell anyways. All in all, Wade did a really good job on cleaning up. There was one detail that Peter noticed was a bit odd. The candles that were placed on each side of the vase, however romantic, we're the Jesus candles people get around Christmas time. Like the fat ones with Jesus's face printed on the sides. Peter raised an eyebrow, he never took Wade as the religious type. 

“Uh, Wade?”

“Yes my darling?” 

“What's up with the candles?”

Wade glanced at the Jesus candles on the table then back at Peter. It was hard to tell through his mask, but Peter imagined him blushing, his tone defensive, “They were the only ones at the dollar store! And plus I was in a rush, I just grabbed the first candles I saw!” Wade fell silent and fiddled with the hem of his clothes, “Aren't you gonna say I look nice in my dress?” Even from here, Peter could see the pout on Deadpool's face. The soft chuckle that Peter let slip was enough to make his sides ache, still recovering from the fit of laughter from before. 

“Just gorgeous.” Peter smiled, and although he may have spoke with a teasing tone, his smile was sincere. He actually felt a shred of pride for Wade. Slowly over the month or so that they've been spending together, Wade has been showing more and more of his skin. It was, however, never his face that he showed, but it was still progress. First, he stopped wearing his gloves out in public. Then Wade started to wear T-shirts around Peter more often. Eventually Wade even got comfortable enough to wear just a pair of boxers. Peter was never bothered by Wade's scars, if anything he was intrigued. He always wanted to know more about them, how exactly he got them, but Peter never asked. He knew Wade wouldn't give him answers. Nonetheless, Peter always tried his best to keep his promise, he always tried not to stare. But tonight? Peter couldn't help it. Though it wasn't Wade's skin Peter was staring at, it was his dress.

“Aw Petey you're making me blush.” Wade was gripping onto one end of his dress and swung it from side to side. He was acting like a shy school girl. That made Peter laugh.

“Sorry I'm late by the way.” Peter changed the topic, not sure if would be able to handle laughing any harder this evening, so he knew the topic could not stay on Wade's dress, “I hope dinner didn't get cold. What are we having anyway?”

“Well, if you'd kindly take a seat, I will serve up the first course.” Wade announced and gestured for Peter to take a seat, “Oh wait! No I'll do it!” Wade rushed to the other side of the table and pulled Peter's seat out for him. Peter cocked a brow at Wade, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

“I haven't even been here for five minutes and you're already acting weirder than usual.” Peter took his seat and allowed Wade to push him back in. It wasn't the most smooth thing Wade has ever done, but he Peter appreciated the gesture. Wade took his seat and then there was silence, “Uh...Wade? The food?”

“Oh shit right!” Wade immediately stood up and got two large bags off the kitchen counter. It wasn't like Deadpool to be acting like this, all jumpy and rather forgetful. Wade wasn't normally like this at all, and he never forgot about food. Peter sensed something was up. Was Wade nervous? “I did prepare normal food at first,” Wade continued and caught Peter's attention again, “But that didn't go so well. So I got the most expensive Chinese food I could find instead.”

“Most expensive? Do I wanna know how you got that money?”

“Relax, I just did a few mercenary jobs.” Deadpool explained as he unpacked the styrofoam dishes, “No killing, as promised. Just a few jobs that involved fucking up the bad guys.” Peter studied Deadpool's body language, it was about the only thing that seemed normal tonight. As far as Peter could tell, Wade was telling the truth. Though Peter still felt a little bad eating the food that was bought at somebody's expense. But if it was a bad guy, Peter supposed that was okay. He fights bad guys all the time. 

“Alright then, what kind of Chinese food did you get?” Peter asked as Wade took a seat across him and began opening each dish. It was all of Peter's favourites. Spring rolls, chicken chow mein, fried rice, vegetable dumplings, and low mein. Peter eyed the food suspiciously.

“Something wrong Petey-Pie? Did I not get the right dumplings? I couldn't remember if you liked those or the wontons.” Wade actually sounded disappointed. Like he was scared that one wrong dish would ruin this whole evening. 

“No, Wade, it's perfect.” Peter assured, “Too perfect. You never get the Chinese order right. Is something going on?” It was at this point that Peter was getting nervous. Wade was acting different and Peter couldn't place if it was in a good or bad sense. He was definitely up to something, Peter just didn't know what. And that worried him. A lot.

“No, well uh, no.” Wade started tapping his foot against the floor, shaking the table slightly, “I mean, it's nothing to worry about until after we eat.”

“Wade.” Peter was using his stern voice, a habit he was adapting from his dads, “You're freaking me out a little bit. What's wrong?” 

“Oh nothing is _wrong._ You don't have to worry about that.” Wade's words brought the slightest hint of comfort to Peter, but it wasn't enough to calm his nerves. When Wade took a fork for himself and handed Peter some chopsticks, in an attempt to break them apart, Peter actually broke them. In the wrong direction. He had gripped them too hard and they snapped. His powers were acting up.

“Shit.”

“It's okay baby boy, I got extra.” Wade grinned, his mask now rolled up to his nose. He dumped three more pairs of chopsticks on the table and this time Peter made sure he broke them vertically. 

“Thanks Wade, that was...thoughtful.” Despite Wade telling Peter not to worry, Peter worried anyway. Deadpool being thoughtful? Compared to that him wearing a dress wasn't so weird. Peter tried not to be suspicious the entire time, sometimes their conversation even distracted Peter for a little bit. But, much like the flame on the candles, a bit of curiosity always danced at the back of Peter's mind. 

“And that's why, young grasshopper, Taco Bell sucks dick, but is good at the same time.” Wade just finished another story that Peter was only half listening to. He laughed anyway though, even with divided attention Wade was able to make Peter laugh. He was a gifted story teller. Another thing had distracted Peter tonight, and that was the way Wade was eating. It wasn't often Deadpool was caught using a fork, one may even argue it's a foreign object to him, he much preferred food to be eaten with his hands. Like tacos or sandwiches. Even foods that aren't usually meant to be finger-foods, Deadpool would use his hands anyway and claim that he was just 'good with his hands.' But this time Wade was using a fork and more often than not he would miss his mouth. He'd either aim too high or too low and end up stabbing his face. Wade would also constantly fiddle with his mask, pushing it up when it started sliding too low. Adjusting it whenever it needed adjusting. 

“Isn't that uncomfortable?” Peter spoke for the first time in a while.

“Having you watch me eat?” Deadpool answered Peter's question with a question of his own. Peter felt a small tinge of embarrassment. So Wade did notice that he was looking at him, “Nah. Your eyes are the only ones I don't mind on me.” Wade wink, the fabric of his mask crinkling to match his expression.

“No, I meant eating with your mask on.” Peter corrected and watched Wade's body language change. His shoulders stiffened for a few seconds as he thought of something clever to say. When Wade couldn't think of anything, he averted his gaze to his plate, swirling his fork around. 

Wade shrugged, “I guess so. I've been doing it for so long that I kinda got use to it.”

“Wade.”

“Peter.” 

The two stared at each other in silence. The question weighed down on Peter's shoulders, it was itching in the back on his throat like an annoying cough. Many times before, Peter would prompt Wade to take off his mask. But he never did. To this day Peter doesn't know what Wade looks like. He didn't know the details of his face, not even the colour of his eyes. Peter's patience was growing thin, not to the point of anger, but to the point of desperation. And now he was staring Wade down from across the table. What started out to be suspiciously a nice evening was about to turn into something more.

“You can take off the mask.” Peter just blurted it out. There was probably a smoother way to say it, but Peter didn't know how. At his request, Wade dropped his fork. The sound it made when it hit the plate seemed to echo extra loud.

“Peter, you know perfectly well why I can't do that.”

This is usually where Peter backs off and leaves it at that. But tonight was different, “No, Wade, I don't know. I understand that you're scared-”

“It's more than just that!” Wade snapped which made Peter jump. It didn't go unnoticed though. Wade calmed himself down before continuing to speak, “It- it's just...I...god when it comes to you Peter I...I can't- I don't _want_ you to see my face.” 

“But I do.” Peter was remaining surprisingly calm during this, but also firm. He wasn't backing down.

“Shit Peter.” Wade buried his head in his hands, “Why do you do this to me Pete? I try to say no but you just...you're just capable of convincing me of doing things I'd never do.” Wade paused and looked up at Peter. His hands were now gripping bottom of his mask, they were shaking. Wade gulped, “Before I show you, I should warn you. I'll probably be the most hideous thing you've ever seen.”

Peter frown. Something pulled at him every time Wade talked badly about his appearance. Peter always felt a need to defend Wade, “Don't say that.”

“The toilet's just down the hall if you need to hurl.” Wade continued, a sad smile flickered at the corners of his lips.

“Wade.” Peter repeated his name firmly, causing Deadpool to sigh.

“Fine. Here goes nothing.” Wade started to lift up his mask. He slid it up his face and got it past his nose. Peter noticed that with every passing second, Wade's breathing would get more ragged. His breaths would be closer together and shorter. His grip was tight around the edges of the fabric and yet his hands shook, “Peter I-...” Wade hesitated, “-I can't do it.” His hands dropped back down on the table, causing it to shake and for his fork to fall on the ground, “Shit.” Wade bent down to pick it up. Peter took this opportunity to get up and join Wade on the other side of the table. When Wade got back up again he was surprised to find Peter standing over him. 

“Then let me do it.” Peter whispered and went to cup Wade's cheeks. His hands just barely grazed the merc's skin before Wade flinched and pulled away. It hurt Peter when Wade did that. Not on a personal level, but merely just in general. Peter hated the fact that Wade hated himself so much. Maybe before the two of them got close, Peter could understand why. Deadpool didn't posses many likable traits on first impression. But the more Peter got to know Deadpool, got to know Wade, the more he liked the mercenary. The more he found out about him. The more he understood him. Peter just wished Wade could do the same, but Peter couldn't imagine what it must be like living with Wade's skin every single day. Peter tried reaching for Wade's face again, “Wade...please.” It was a pathetic form of begging, but it appeared to have work. Wade didn't pull away again. That was all the confirmation Peter needed. He gripped the ends of Wade's mask. Peter tugged at it gently, sliding it up just before Wade's eyes were revealed, but Peter didn't plan on stopping there.

“Peter, wait-!” Wade cried out at the last second, but it was too late. Peter probably would have stopped if Wade had told him to in time, but he spoke the very second Peter took off his mask. It took three seconds before Wade covered as much as his face as he could with his hands. But in those three seconds, Peter got a glimpse of his face, “Don't fucking stare at me!” Wade stood up abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor. He stared down at the table, his breaths short and quick, his fingers not only gripping his face but roughly digging into it.

“Wade.” Peter took a step towards the panting man, his mask now laid on the floor, slipping from Peter's grip. With a shaking hand, Peter reached out towards Wade, “You're gonna hurt yourself.”

“Don't fucking touch me!” Wade lashed out his arm violently and swiped Peter's hand away. The amount of force that he used came as a shock to Peter, “You're the bastard who did this to me!” 

“Wade, what are you-”

“Don't fucking call me that! You're the one who looks like shit! I'll fucking kill you for this!” Wade began throwing objects at Peter. Forks, plates, anything he could really get his hands on. And for the first time since the night that Deadpool started staying at Peter's apartment, Peter's spidey-sense was telling him that Wade was dangerous. It was as Peter was dodging the objects being thrown at him did he clue in. Peter had heard before that Deadpool is known to hallucinate, either random situations or memories from his past. He could only guess that was what was happening right now. 

“Wade stop!” Peter grunted as he swiftly moved out of the way of a pair of flying chopsticks, “It's me Peter!” Despite his yelling, Wade didn't appear to hear him. Peter knew he had to put a stop to this. He couldn't get close enough to Deadpool to tackle him to the ground, so he had to improvise. With a flick on his wrist, Peter shot some webs at Wade's chest, pulling him forward then kicking him back. Peter hoped that his kick didn't do too much damage, but either way Wade would heal. Wade stumbled back a few steps but tripped over his chair, landing on the floor with a hard thump. Peter took this opportunity to web Wade's hands to the kitchen cabinets behind him. He struggled against the restraints.

“Let me go! I ain't going back, you can't fucking make me!” Wade thrashed from side to side but it was no use, he couldn't tear the webs off of him. Peter tried approaching Wade again, but every time he would try to kick him away, “Get away from me you shit sticks! Don't look at me!” Peter had to think of a quick alternative. He could get Deadpool's mask and put it back on him, but it was on the other side of the living room now. Peter had to think of some other way to cover Wade's face. With a whip of his neck to either side, Peter spotted the dish towel hanging from the oven's handle. He grabbed it and dove at Wade. Peter covered Wade's head with the towel and held Wade's head against his shoulder until Wade stopped struggling. Once he fell limp and his breathing slowed, Peter let go but did not back away from him, Peter stayed on his knees.

“Wade?” Despite his racing heart, Peter's voice came out as calm. 

“Vanessa?” When Wade spoke, his voice was cracked from yelling and distant all at once. 

“No it's-”

“Peter.” Wade finished Peter's sentence for him. When Wade said Peter's name, his voice sounded so much closer, “Peter?” Wade repeated now with panic painting his tone. His head snapped up, causing the towel to fall around his shoulders. Peter locked eyes with Wade for a few seconds. Both their breath were stolen. Wade's most likely out of shock. But Peter's? It was because he got to study Wade's face for the first time. The first thing Peter noticed were his eyes. They were a striking blue, like a Hawaiian ocean. Wade had those eyes that you couldn't help but stare into. They were strong, captivating, and over flowing with colour. And the only way to keep that colour from spilling out was to stare directly into them. But the thing that shocked Peter the most about Wade's eyes was how much life was in them. They looked so full. So alive. So Wade. As if the colour was like looking inside of him, his eyes doors to his soul. Every inch of his personality, every trait and emotion Wade possessed were all buried behind his ocean blues. Peter had to swallow a hard lump in his throat. The life they showed, it was overwhelming. 

“Peter...” Wade whispered his name breathlessly in a way that made his heart pound, “What are you...” As Wade's voice faded out, he tore his gaze from Peter's. He looked passed Peter's shoulder, passed the mess of broken dishes, and into the living room. Once Wade's eyes widened, Peter automatically knew what he spotted, “My mask.” Wade was now shifting his gaze frantically back and forth between Peter and his mask, still trying to process what was going on.

Peter set his hands on Wade's shoulders then rethought his action and cupped Wade's cheeks instead. Wade squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw so tight that it looked painful. He tried to pull away. Peter didn't make the mistake of letting go. 

“Wade, it's okay.” 

“No it's not!” Wade's voice shook and he opened his eyes again, Peter was shocked to find that they were now glossed over and on the brink of tears, “How...how can you stand to look at me!?” Fat tears started leaking from Wade's eyes. Peter never saw Wade cry before, nor did he imagine him as the crying type, “Why haven't you run away yet? Everyone else always does.” Wade now spoke with a hauntingly calming tone, almost maddening. 

“Because Wade, you can't get rid of me that easily.” To some that may have sounded like a joke, but Peter meant it with full earnestness. It was true, after all. Wade's appearance would never scare Peter away, he just wished there was some sure way to reassure Wade of that. 

“Did...” Wade choked on his words, his gaze darting to the mess of broken dishes, splattered food, and scattered utensils, “Did I do all that?”

“Um, yeah.” Peter gulped, “You did.”

“Fucking hell.” Wade cursed beneath his breath then directed his gaze back at Peter. Wade's voice became laced with a new kind of panic, “Did I hurt you???” 

“No, no I'm okay.” Peter was quick to assure Wade of that. While he was the one throwing all these things at Peter and lashing out at him, Peter was able to dodge the attacks. He'd be surprised if there was even slight bruising on him. He was completely fine, “You didn't hurt me.”

Wade's head slumped onto Peter's shoulders, sliding out of his grip. Wade's shoulders began to shake and Peter soon realized that Wade was crying. Peter reached over the larger man and ripped off the webs so his hands could be free. They immediately dropped to Wade's sides, as if he couldn't move them. Peter then took his own hands and hugged Wade, one hand wrapping on his shoulders and the other cupping the back of his head. 

“I'm sorry, Pete.” Wade cried into Peter's shirt, “I'm so fucking sorry.” 

“Wade, it's okay. Nobody got hurt.” Peter rested his head against Wade's, hoping that it was a comforting gesture. 

“I ruined this fucking evening, this is what I fucking get for trying to be fucking romantic.” Wade was clearly distressed, but Peter couldn't hold back the soft giggle he let slip. He couldn't imagine Deadpool being romantic, and tonight's events just proved why Peter thought that. In defiance of the results, Peter still greatly appreciated the effort.

“What was all this about anyway? The whole candle light dinner I mean.” Peter asked, trying to distract Wade from the disaster that just happened. Peter wasn't sure if it worked or not, he couldn't tell by Wade's sigh.

“I was uh...I was planning on asking you something tonight.” Wade muttered almost inaudibly.

“I'm not gonna marry you at 19, Wade. Ask again once I'm 20.” Peter joked and Wade laughed softly. He felt the smallest sense of triumph, maybe this distracting thing was working after all.

“Heh, no that wasn't it.” Wade continued then reached behind him. He pulled a flower out of the back pocket of his dress. It was crushed and wilted now, but Peter was still able to tell that it use to be a daisy...he thinks. Wade held it up for Peter to take but did not lift up his head. Peter took the flower from Wade's grip and held it lightly in his own, “I was gonna ask you if you wanted to make things 'official' tonight. I had a whole musical number planned and everything.”

Peter smiled at the flower in his hand. Sure, it was broken and was missing more petals then it has, but in a way, it was still beautiful, “You did not have a musical number planned.”

“I did, I swear to fucking god.” Wade's voice was regaining some of its old humour. Peter could tell that Wade was smiling slightly even without looking at his face, “I was gonna sing and dance and cool shit like that.” 

“I'm sure you were.” Peter rolled his eyes playfully and that's when Deadpool pulled back from his embrace to look Peter in the eyes.

“You little shit, you don't believe do you?”

“Not a chance.”

“I'll prove it! I'll start singing right now!” 

Peter snickered, “Wade, you don't have to go to such lengths to get me to go out with you.”

“So is that a yes?” Wade locked his eyes with Peter's, and Peter saw them light up with hope. Being able to see Wade's expression wasn't something Peter was use to. Up until now, he had always based Deadpool's emotions on the tone of his voice or his body language. But now that Peter could see Wade's face, he seemed so much more expressive. So much more human.

“Heh, yeah.” Peter didn't take the time to think it over. It was funny, really, how Peter always spent so much time worrying. He spent so much time fretting over moments like this. But when those moments actually came, everything seemed so simple. Peter moved to take a seat by Wade. Much like the incident that happened in the bathroom, the two were now sitting on the floor and leaning on each other.

“Hey Wade?”

“Yeah Pete?”

“Who the hell is Vanessa?”

“Oh, she's my old girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“She's dead.”

“Oh.” Peter twirled the stem of his flower in his fingers, “This isn't gonna turn into some 'unresolved feelings learning to love again' plot line is it?”

“You know when you break the forth wall like that, I feel myself getting oddly aroused.” Wade chuckled hardheartedly, “And no, none of that shit.”

“And Wade? One more thing. When you said you wanted to 'make things official' you meant, like, b-boyfriend or...something?”

“Boyfriend. Husband. Sex Slave. Whatever title you wanna have.” Wade teased, but Peter got the sense that he was only half joking, “But yeah. That's what I meant.”

“You know what that means, don't you?” 

“What?”

“My whole family's gonna wanna meet you.”

Wade let a moment of silence linger on before he spoke again, “We're fucked.”

Peter could only nod his head in agreement. How was he suppose to introduce Wade to Steve and Tony? 'Hey dads look! This is my boyfriend Wade, or as you know him, a maniac who thinks murder is fun!' Yeah right. That would get him kicked out on the streets. Peter had no idea how he was gonna tell his parents that he was dating fucking Deadpool. Peter needed some help. In order to figure out how to introduce Wade to his dads, Peter first needed to introduce Wade to someone else. Someone that always helped Peter, no matter what. Someone who also wanted to meet Peter's mysterious friend. 

And after all, she did ask first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus candles.


	15. Chapter 14

[This is a bad idea.]

{How the hell did Peter convince us to do this?}

[Love is blind.]

{Oh, I thought that was Al.}

[Both?]

{Oh movie references, how original.}

[Fuck off.]

Wade dismissed his boxes and focused back on Peter. The two of them were walking down a suburb sidewalk in Queen's. It was a little cooler in this part of town, so Wade's sweater wasn't overheating him this time, though Wade was missing the spandex of his suit. Once you get use to the tightness around your junk, it's not so bad. But Wade's suit wasn't the only thing he was missing. His Deadpool mask was also absent. How Peter manage to persuade Wade in not wearing it was beyond the merc's knowledge. His face, however, was still covered. Wade not only wore his hood and a snapback, but he also had a thick scarf wrapped around his face. Well, the lower half of his face at least, he still needed to see. Why was Wade dressed so casually? It was because Peter was taking him to meet his Aunt May. And the nerd claimed that Wade's Deadpool mask would have scared the shit out of her. Well, okay, not in those exact words, but the point is still the same. And now as they were walking, Peter was listing off things that were okay and not okay for Wade to do.

“Try not to burp as loudly, and for god's sake please remember manners. And no dick jokes. Or vagina jokes. Just no sex jokes at all. And keep the swearing on the down low, May hates swearing. And don't mention that you're a mercenary either.” Peter counted off the things on his fingers but when he looked at Wade, Peter smiled guiltily and rubbed the back of his neck, “But you know, be yourself too.”

“Petey, you just named off everything about me on the 'can't do' list. How am I suppose to be myself?” It was a serious question, and the more Peter worried over this meeting, the more Wade was getting nervous.

{Relax, it's just some little old lady probably.}

[It's not just some lady, it's Peter's aunt. We don't wanna screw this up.]

“I don't know.” Peter whined and let his head fall in his hands, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“It's gonna be fine sweet cheeks.”

“And no nicknames!” Peter shouted the one thing he forgot to mention on the list, “I mean just that standard ones are okay. But nicknames like 'sweet cheeks' or 'sweetums' or 'baby boy'”

“Aww c'mon! Baby boy's my favourite one.” Wade pouted, how could Petey do this to him? 

“And don't comment on my ass either. Don't even mention asses of any sort.” 

“Now that's just unreasonable.”

“Wade!” Peter glared at him and Wade held up his hands in defense, “I'm being serious.”

“Alright alright, I'm sorry Petey-Pie. I won't even think about your ass.” It was a stupid thing to say because now that Wade said that he wouldn't think about Peter's ass, that's all he was thinking about, “But maybe I could just squeeze it once for good luck?”

Peter glowered at Wade and now he knew to back off. He also knew that he wasn't going to get to squeeze that ass. Maybe next time. 

“Alright, we're here.” Peter announced when they came to the edge of a house's walkway. Wade followed Peter up the steps and to the door. He suddenly felt a large pit in his stomach.

[This place looks oddly familiar.]

{Shit. Did we kill someone who lives here before?}

“You ready?” Peter glanced over his shoulder at Wade, and Wade could only nod in response. What if he did accidentally kill Peter's aunt without knowing it? Peter rang the doorbell and Wade's nerves only rose with every passing second. Thankfully, a petite lady did answer the door. Wade could barely see her over Peter. The only details of her that Wade got was that her roots were starting to go grey. 

“Peter!” Whom Wade presumed to be Aunt May cried out joyfully and wrapped her arms around Peter. Wade use to think that his baby boy was short, but now he saw that it ran in the family.

“Hey Aunt May.” Peter gladly returned the hug. Wade stood there awkwardly, he wasn't sure what to do. Wade felt out of place, almost like he was intruding. And despite his many layers, he felt oddly naked. Usually Wade was good with people, hell he was great at keeping a conversation. But now? His mind was already going blank and the hug hadn't even ended yet.

“You boys come in, I have a lasagna in the oven and it's not gonna eat itself!” May turned and walked back inside. Peter followed in after her but Wade remained standing in the doorway. He wasn't sure if the invitation inside also included him. May did says 'you boys' so Wade could assume that meant him as well, but as of right now he couldn't be sure. Wade wasn't sure of anything. He felt like his brain was shutting down. Peter noticed that Wade wasn't budging so he grabbed onto his arm and pulled him inside. 

{Okay, we've definitely been in this house before.}

Wade looked around the kitchen, everything seemed so familiar. The bare yellow walls, the small white fridge, the table against the wall. He could have sworn he use to live here or something, that's how familiar this place was seeming. 

“So Aunt May.” Peter began and Wade turned his attention to the floor. Peter was busy setting the table while May was pulling her lasagna out of the over, “Remember my friend you wanted to meet?”

“That Wade fellow? Yes I remember.” May chimed and set the steaming dish onto of the stove.

“Well.” Peter paused and walked over to Wade, wrapping an arm around his waist. Wade was surprised at the action and jumped, “This is him. Aunt May, Wade. Wade, this is my Aunt May.”

{Alright, this is it. Don't fuck this up.}

Wade took a deep breath the looked up, finally being able to see what May looks like, “Hey, it's nice to-” Wade stopped dead in the middle of his sentence. Now he knew why this whole place looked familiar. He knew why Aunt May looked familiar. Except now she was older. There was a deep crease on her brow and wrinkles decorated her eyes. She was one of those ladies whose beauty was just gonna improve with age. She had noticeable smile lines on her cheeks and her hair was a mixture of brown and grey. But she still looked like the May Wade knew. He locked eyes with her and by her expression, Wade could tell that she recognized him too. 

“Wade.” Her voice was still just as soft as she closed the distance between them, “Is that...” Once May's voice faded out, Wade spoke up.

“May-flower?” 

At this point Peter took a step away from Wade and his Aunt, “May-flower? Wait do you guys already know each other?” Peter's question went unanswered. 

May reached up and flipped off Wade's hood, “So it is you, I'd recognize though blue eyes anywhere.”

{Red alert! Red alert! We're exposed!}

Wade ignored his thoughts, for once he didn't care about his face being exposed. He was too in shock. He did, however, flinch as May took off his hat and pulled down his scarf. He half expected her to scream, but the pity that filled her eyes was much worse.

“What happened to you?” 

Wade opened his mouth but no sound came out. 

Hell. 

That's what happened to him. 

May's eyes narrowed, “This is what you get for running away! Do you know how worried Ben and I were?!”

[Ben, so that was his name.]

{Do you think that would have mattered to Peter?}

[Apparently, yes. Considering May-flower and Aunt May are the fucking same person you dipshit!]

Speaking of Peter, he was a confused, heavy breathing mess standing next to Wade.

“Guys!” Peter shouted and got both May's and Wade's attention back, “What;s going on here!?”

May sighed and turned to face her nephew, “Peter, you might want to sit down for this.”

Peter crossed his arms, “I'm fine standing, thanks.”

{Uh-oh, he's getting mad.}

“Right, let's see. How do I explain this.” May fiddled with her hands and this was Wade's cue to step in.

“Pete, remember how I said when I was a young teen I went to live with a May?” At Wade's question, Peter nodded his head, “Well. Turns out it was your Aunt May.”

Peter rubbed his brow, “Aunt May is that true?”

“Yes, sweetie, you see-”

“When did this happen?” Peter snapped, cutting off his Aunt.

“The night you first went to live with your fathers, when you were four, well Ben was in Canada picking up Wade.” May explained but it did nothing to calm Peter down. Wade could tell that Peter was getting worked up by the redness of his face and the fact that his fist were clenching and unclenching by his sides. 

“So I didn't get to say goodbye to Uncle Ben that night because he was busy getting another child!?” Peter started to yell, “While you were sending me away you were also replacing me!? With him!?” Peter pointed an accusing finger at Wade. When Wade imagined this evening going to hell, it was because of him, not Peter. But now Peter was exploding at his aunt. 

{Oh shit.}

[What should we do?]

Wade stayed silent, not wanting to interfere. 

“Now Peter, you're being unreasonable.” May said sternly and put her hands on her hips, but that did nothing to calm Peter down.

“What's unreasonable is you never telling me this! Is this the real reason why you sent me away!?”

“Now Peter, you know that's not true. You know why I gave you to Steve and Tony. You were a lot to handle and for a woman of my age-”

“A lot to handle!? A four year old was too much for you but a fucking delinquent teenager wasn't!?”

{Aww, he knew we were a delinquent!}

“There is no need for that language young man!”

“What, just like there was no need for me!? Me and my stupid too hard to handle spider powers!?” To prove his point, Peter started shooting a few random webs then went back to yelling, “My- my strange powers because I'm nothing but a freak to you?! Because I'm dangerous!? Sorry I was too much trouble for you Aunt May, I'll make sure to stay out of your way next time!”

“Now Peter that's enough!” May started yelling back, “Losing your parents and Ben was hard but having to send you away is still the hardest thing I've ever done! I did it to protect you Peter.”

Wade was starting to get the sense that they were forgetting that he was here.

“Protect me!? You just wanted to get rid of me! Because if you were gonna raise a child, you at least wanted him to be normal right?! A fucked up teenager was better than a mutated four year old!” Peter was getting so worked up that his eyes started to fill with angry tears. Wade wanted to do two things. Slap Peter. Then hug him.

“Now you listen to me-”

“No Aunt May! You listen to me! You and Wade must have so much to catch up on, I wouldn't want to intrude! It's not like it was my business or anything! Why would I want to know that my aunt and boyfriend already know each other because my aunt helped raise him without me even knowing!? That doesn't matter at all! So I'll let you two talk, not like you need me anyway, I'm too much trouble!” At this point Peter turned on his heels and stormed out the door. He slammed it behind him, leaving May and Wade in silence. 

“Uhhh.” Wade scratched the back on his head, looking anywhere but at May.

“Did he say boyfriend?” May asked and Wade could feel her eyes on him. 

“Um, yeah. We're kinda like...a thing....surprise?” Wade offered her one of his guilty grins. He kept shifting his gaze from May to the door, rocking back and forth on his feet. 

[Comfort the old lady.]

{Go after Peter.}

Wade was torn. He didn't know what to do. One voice was telling him to stay with May and let Peter cool down. But the other one was telling him to go run after Peter, comfort him instead.

“So, I'm gonna...” Wade let his voice fade off as he pointed with his thumb at the door. He hoped May would get the hint.

“When you catch him.” May spoke softly, staring blankly at the tiled floor, “Tell Peter I'm sorry. Alright?”

Wade smiled sadly and quickly leaned down, kissing May on the cheek, “Will do May-flower. We'll catch up later!” Wade ran out of the house, throwing his hood back on to keep the rain from hitting him. Peter was just a few streets up ahead. 

[Running after your lover in the rain? How romantic!]

{If we say something really sweet, we might be able to get him to drop his pants.}

“Shut. Up.” Wade muttered to himself and darted after Peter. Within a few steps, he caught up to Peter and reached towards him, “Peter!”

With a snap of his next, Peter looked over his shoulder and swiped Wade's hand away, “Don't touch me!” He kept walking but Wade tried to stop him again. 

“Peter wait!”

“Stop following me Wade!”

“I just wanna talk to you.”

This time, Peter's body swung around to face Wade. It may just be one of his hallucinations, but Wade could have sworn he saw a dark aura radiating off of Peter.

“Well _I_ don't wanna talk to _you!_ ” 

{What did we do?}

[Do you want a list in order of stupidity or chronological?]

{Chronological.}

[A lot of stupid things.]

“Pete, just, listen to me.” Wade tried to explain, “Your Aunt May-”

“Don't you dare talk to me about Aunt May! How could you not tell me that you knew her?! That you were practically raised by her!?” Now Peter's anger was directed at Wade. It was shocking, for a moment Wade actually thought he was the innocent one.

{You're a fucking idiot. We always fuck up somehow. You should know that by now.}

“Petey, I-I didn't-”

“You didn't what!? You didn't think to tell me? Yeah I realized that! I mean, how could you have not seen the connections!? Peter Parker. May Parker. Even an idiot could realize that we're related!”

{In our defence, Peter never technically told us his last name.}

[But we knew it anyway, we've read Peter's articles in the Daily Bugle before. It always has his name on it.]

{Petey's right, we're an idiot.}

[Damn straight.]

“And what?! Did you not recognize the neighborhood, or the house!?” Peter continued yelling and Wade got this sudden feeling of being overwhelmed. With Peter and his two thought boxes yelling at him, Wade didn't know who to concentrate on. His head pounded and his scars seemed to ache a little extra tonight. 

“Baby boy-” Wade tried getting a word in, but Peter just kept cutting him off. 

“Don't call me that! Just- ...just don't talk to me, okay?!” On that note, Peter turned back around and went back to storming off. This time, Wade didn't follow him. But he did call after him.

“Where are you going!?”

“Home!” Despite his shouting, Peter's voice was getting distant. 

“Peter you're...you're gonna walk home in the rain?!”

“Yup!”

“From Queens!?”

“Yes!” That was the last of Peter's shouts that Wade heard. And now Peter was just a shadowed figure in the distance. Walking away. Getting further and further. And Wade just stood there, getting wetter and wetter in a completely non sexual way. 

{You fucked up big time.}

“What did I even do?” Wade didn't bother trying not to talk to himself. No one was around to hear him anyway.

[You seriously should have noticed the signs. The similar names.]

{The same location.}

[The same fucking house.]

{They both use cocoa butter.}

It was true. Both Peter's and May's hands were incredibly soft. Wade should have realized all the signs, all the similarities, everything pointed to that Peter's May and his May were the same person.

{But you were too much of an idiot to have realized it.}

[As per usual. When he is ever not a fucking idiot?]

“Guys, stop. You're giving me a headache.” Wade passed his hand over his face. Something felt off. Oh right, his mask. 

{Now we're an idiot and hideous. Can you blame Peter for leaving us?}

“He- he didn't leave. He's just angry.” 

[Do you see him in front of us? He left you dumbass. Just like everyone always does.]

“No, Peter's gonna be back. He's-”

{What? Different? Don't make me laugh. He hates us just as much as everyone else does, maybe even a little more}

“That's not true!” Wade was now gripping his head. Sometimes having more than just your own thoughts in there could be really bothersome. And cruel. 

{You know we deserve it.}

[I warned you not to get attached.]

“Aarrgh!” Wade cried out and started to punch the nearest street lamp, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”

“Wade?” That was May's voice. Wade turned around and sure enough there was the small lady wrapped in her rain poncho, “Where's Peter?” 

Wade sucked in a breath then rested his head against the street lamp, releasing it, “He's gone.”

“You know,” May continued, her voice oddly soothing, “The lasagna's gonna get cold, and there's too much for me to eat all by myself. Do you wanna join me?” 

Wade glanced in the direction Peter went, he was nowhere to be seen. Peter was long gone by now. Wade looked back at May and attempted a smile. It was a pathetic attempt.

“Is there garlic bread?” 

May smiled sweetly, “Of course there is.”

“Then don't mind if I do.” At Wade's reply, May lead the way back home. It felt nice to be reunited with the lady who once served as a mother figure in Wade's early teens.

“You have some explaining to do mister.” May spoke firmly but there was a glint of amusement in her tired eyes. 

“Heh,” Wade chuckled, “It's origin story time.” Wade gave once last glance over his shoulder in hopes Peter would magically reappear. It was nothing but empty space and pouring rain. Not even a week since they've made things official and they've already had their first fight. Maybe Wade's thought boxes were right, he was a fuck up. Wade sighed and turned his attention back to what was in front of him. It was official. Peter was gone. And Wade had no idea when he'd be back. If ever. Wade could only hope that this time was actually going to be different. That Peter was different. Because more often than not, when it came to Wade, nobody ever comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fret my darlings.


	16. Chapter 15

Steve sipped at his tea while Tony sipped at his coffee. They had no idea when Peter was suppose to get back from Aunt May's, but it was getting pretty late plus it started to rain. Steve was only half paying attention to the movie on the TV, he was more interested in watching the rain fall on the window, waiting for Peter to come home. 

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Rogers?” It was Jarvis who spoke and the husbands looked up at the ceiling as if addressing him, “Peter has returned and is coming up in the elevator. Warning: He appears to be upset.”

Steve and Tony exchanged a glance. 

“Like, how upset?” Tony asked the question that was on both their minds, “On a scale of 1 to 10.”

“He seems to be an 11, sir.” 

They exchanged another glance. One that both said 'uh-oh' and 'play it cool.' The elevator door dinged and opened. Out stepped a very enraged, and soaked, Peter. He barely noticed his dads in the living room, awkwardly sipping their drinks and watching him. Peter's mind was too clouded by his own anger. He was muttering to himself, but not loud enough for either of his parents to hear. Peter stormed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, he grabbed the milk carton and took a drink straight from it. 

“Tony, he forgot the glass. Should we interfere?”

“Not yet, Steve.”

“But Tony, the milk!”

“I said not yet!”

Peter could hear his dads talking in the other room but couldn't make out what they were saying. Nor did Peter care. With a last gulp of milk, Peter swiped at his mouth then put the carton back in the fridge. 

“Stupid Wade. Stupid Aunt May. Stupid milk carton. Stupid fridge.” Peter closed the fridge door a little too roughly, but did he care? Not at a moment like this. Any object that he walked by, he would curse it or hit it, “Stupid cupboards, and stupid table, stupid chair!” Peter kicked the kitchen stool, stubbing his toe, “Ow, shit!” Peter grabbed onto his foot and started hopping on his other. Maybe he kicked the stool a little too hard. 

“All right, I'm going in.” Steve decided and got up from his seat. In a few hurried steps he was in the kitchen, “Peter? Are you alright?” 

Peter stopped hopping and looked at his dad, still clutching onto his foot, “I stubbed my toe.” Red started to seep through his white sock, “Aw fuck.” Usually Peter would be more conscious of his swearing around Steve, knowing how he feels about fowl language, but after tonight he really didn't care about anything except his aching toe. 

“Alright Peter, take a seat and let me see.” Steve ordered calmly and Peter obeyed. He hopped to the nearest stool and took a seat. Steve knelt down and took off Peter's sock. His big toe was all busted and was starting to bruise, “Tony, get the first aid kit!” Steve called to his husband in the other room. Seconds later, Tony appeared with the first aid kit in hand and panicked. 

“What happened??? Is Peter hurt??? Do I need the suit?” 

“He just broke his toe.” Steve explained and he took the first aid kit and opened it, he began to wrap Peter's toe. Meanwhile Tony was there looking from Steve to Peter and back again.

“Uh, how?”

Now both his parents looked at Peter, waiting for an explanation.

“I kicked the chair.” Peter muttered and rested his chin in his hand. 

“God Peter,” Tony said, passing a hand over his face, “You still don't know your own strength.” 

Peter bristled in silence. It was true, at some points Peter didn't know his own strength, or agility, or any other power he possessed. When Peter got over emotional, he'd sometimes lose control. Some people get blind rage, or relentless sobbing, Peter gets uncontrolled strength and extremely heightened senses. That's why Peter always tried his best to not let his emotions get the better of him. It doesn't always work out. 

“Peter,” Steve began and finished tending to Peter's toe, “Is there something wrong?” It was a stupid question, obviously there was something wrong But like any classic teenager, Peter mumbled his response.

“Nothing, I'm fine.” 

And now Tony would say his famous response to that, “You don't look fine.” This was where Peter usually broke. He'd tell his parents everything that was wrong, seeing that they weren't gonna give up. But Peter was feeling a little extra suborn tonight. 

“I told you, I'm fine.” His tone was not in the least bit convincing, but Peter didn't care. He hopped down from his stool and tried heading towards the door. Steve, however, bet him to it and blocked the only entrance and exit to the kitchen. Tony stood behind Peter. He was trapped. 

“Sweetheart, tell us what's wrong.” Steve used his signature nickname for Peter. He had always been the one to be more affectionate, using terms like 'sweetheart' or 'baby.' Tony just always stuck with the nickname of squirt. 

“Nothing. Now please move.” Peter was trying to keep his voice under control, but he could feel his anger building up in his stomach. 

“Not until you tell us.” Tony spoke firmly and Peter didn't have to turn around to know that he was crossing his arms. Now Peter was really getting mad. All his anger was piling up from before. The situation with Aunt May, with Wade, and now with his parents. And that's why Peter did something stupid, he wasn't thinking clearly. In a last attempt of effort, Peter rammed himself into Steve's body, hoping to move his Pops out of the way and make a break for it. But Steve, being the super solider Captain America and all, barely budge. Even with super strength, Peter was still no match for Steve. Peter stumbled back a few steps and was gonna fall on the ground but Tony caught him and hoisted him back up. 

“Easy does it there Squirt.” Tony made sure that Peter was steady on his feet before he let go, “Now Peter, what do you have to say for yourself?” 

Peter squeezed his fist shut as he started to breath more heavily. It's not like he was out of breath or anything, it was just one of those moments where you're so angry and so upset that you forget how to breath properly. Peter was starting to get overwhelmed, he was mad and sad and confused and ashamed all at once. And what was once uncontrollable anger was now turning into deep sorrow. Peter's eyes filled with tears that burned. He didn't want to let them loose, Peter hated crying. He always has. After all, big boys don't cry. 

Steve's face melted into an expression of compassion. Once he saw Peter's tears, he knew something was seriously wrong. Peter never cried in front of him or Tony unless it was serious. It was a trait of Peter's that Steve nor Tony were ever able to break, he's been like this since he was a kid. 

“Peter..” Steve whispered his name softly and with sympathy. One moment Peter was standing in the kitchen trying not to cry, the next he was wrapped in his parents' arms and was being guided to the living room. They all took a seat on the couch with Peter in the middle. Each of his dads had one arm wrapped around him. Peter allowed thin tears to drip from his eyes and from time to time he would sniffle, but Peter did not utter a single sob. 

“You wanna tell us what's going on squirt?” Tony's voice was serene yet he still sounded like an overprotective dad. It was like he was waiting for Peter to give a name then he'd get in the IronMan suit and go. Tony was the talk later act now kind of parent, he wanted to know what happened and where and what he can do to help. Steve, on the other hand, was quite the opposite of Tony. He was the calm and rational one. He was the parent who would stroke your hair and bring you some tea while you would tell him your problems. Steve would then offer his advice, trying to help in a very different way than Tony. 

“Would you guys ever- ever replace me? Am I too much trouble?” Peter snivelled and clutched onto his warm cup of tea, and sure enough Steve was stroking his hair. Peter's parents traded a look then focused back on their son.

“Of course not Peter.” Tony consulted.

“What made you think that?” Steve asked as his strokes started getting longer and slower, all the more comforting. 

“A-Aunt May.” Peter wiped his nose with the back of his hand. 

“Why would May tell you-” Tony began but Peter shook his head. 

“Peter, sweetie, tell us what happened at Aunt May's tonight.” Even Steve's voice was starting to get etched with concern. He was suppose to be the calm one. Peter knew if his parents got upset then that would make him even more upset. How was he suppose to tell them about what happened? About May's secret? About Wade? But right now he wasn't thinking clearly. He tried to blubber out an explanation as best as he could. 

“She- she knew him, she knew. And I didn't know, but she a-already knew him! Aunt May, she- she replaced me w-with him cause I-” Peter choked on his words and squeezed his tea cup harder to the point of cracking it. Steve took away the cup for safety precautions, the last thing Peter needed was hot tea spilled all over himself, “I was too much t-trouble for her, but he- he wasn't!”

Steve handed Tony the cup of tea while he took Peter into a full embrace. Steve knew that if Peter was warm and felt safe, he was more likely too talk, “Who wasn't enough trouble for May? Peter who are you talking about?” Steve spoke as calmly at possible, running his fingers through Peter's hair while Tony was rubbing their son's knee. 

Peter shook his head against Steve's chest, he couldn't bring himself to say it, “I-I can't say.”

“Peter.” Tony spoke more securely than Steve. He didn't sound as understanding, but he did sound strong and when Tony used this voice Peter knew it was a 'doing-it-for-your-own-good' situation, “Why can't you tell us?”

“Be-because you won't like him.” Peter knew that was the truth. If he told them it was Wade, there was no getting out of telling them that he was also Deadpool. He was that Wade. But as of right now, Peter almost wanted to tell his parents everything. He hated lying and keeping secrets from them. And due to Steve's warm embrace, Peter's mind was getting foggy and he couldn't think of much else besides how much he just wanted to come clean. But what would Wade say?

“And why not?” Now Tony's voice was growing thick with worry. Peter wouldn't be surprise if he got up to get a drink soon, “Peter, who is he?” 

Peter gritted his teeth as he clenched more tightly onto Steve's shirt, it was probably soaked with his tears now. That was just another thing he would have to apologize for later. Peter took a few seconds to contemplate the question. He breathed in Steve's scent and listened to the steady beating of his heart. He focused on the constant and smooth strokes of Steve's hand through his hair. Peter took a deep breath.

Now or Never

“W-Wade.” Peter's voice lacked the confidence he was searching for, and now his anxiety was telling him that his answer was too simple, that he had to say more right this second. That's usually how Peter ends up rambling. But this time Peter kept his mouth shut, what more could he say? 

“Peter,” Steve sounded confused, “Why wouldn't we like Wade?” 

“Because he-” Peter's voice hitched as he took one last moment to hesitate, “He's Deadpool.”

At the mention of Deadpool's name, Steve dropped his embrace around Peter in shock and Tony choked and spit out the tea he's secretly been drinking. 

What!?” Tony shouted.

Peter flinched as he silently started to pray that his fathers wouldn't start yelling at him. Thankfully, Steve shot Tony a glare to tell him to shut it for now and save his anger for later. 

“Peter, are you and Dead- uh, Wade. Are you and Wade like a....a thing?” Steve asked awkwardly. He could comfort the hell out of Peter, make him feel better when he's been down, but when it comes to relationships and personal things like that? Steve is just as awkward as Peter is normally. Relationship advice is not Steve's forte.

Peter could only sniff and nod his head in response. He braced himself, though he wasn't entirely sure what for. Peter could just sense something bad was coming. Moments later, he was right, Tony stood up and started to pace. When Tony paces, that's how you can tell he's pissed. 

“This is unbelievable!” Tony threw his arms up in exasperation, “Our son is dating Deadpool. _Deadpool!_ This can't be happening!” 

“Tony.” Steve's voice cut through harshly, but Tony paid no mind to it. Peter started to shrink within himself, thinking that maybe if he could make himself smaller, it would make everything else quieter. All of Tony's shouting was making Peter's head throb. 

“How did this even happen, I didn't even know you knew Deadpool, Peter!” Tony stopped pacing and addressed Peter, but Peter knew better than to answer or interrupt when Tony was going on one of his little rants. Tony dropped to his knees and set both of his hands on Peter's knees, “Did he do anything to do? Have you done it yet? Did Deadpool force you to?” Peter didn't even get the chance to tell his dad that no, they didn't have sex, before Tony kept going, “That's it, I'm gonna kill him. I'm getting the suit.” Tony got up and dashed away.

“Tony!” Now it was Steve's turn to shout, though his' weren't directed at Peter, “Get back here!” Steve started to run after Tony but then skidded to a halt, facing Peter again, “I'll be right back sweetie. Don't go anywhere, we'll continue talking later.” With that, Steve turned back around and raced after his husband, “Tony get out of the suit!”

Peter dropped his head in his hand. How did he manage to fuck up this badly? Now everyone was mad at him. Aunt May. His parents. Wade. Peter would have to figure out a way to apologize to all three of them. To Aunt May for the way he behaved. It wasn't fair that he exploded at her. Now that Peter was calm, he could see that. He'd also have to apologize to Wade for lashing out. It wasn't fair to him either. And lastly, Peter would have to apologize to his parents for...for...why were they mad at him again?

“Tony, I swear to god get out of the IronMan suit right now!”

“Not until Deadpool is dead!”

“You know he can't die!”

“That won't stop me from trying!”

Oh right. They were mad about Deadpool. Peter covered his ears, he could hear his parents' shouting from the living room. He'd have to apologize to them for causing so much trouble. Maybe Peter should have told them about Wade sooner, or maybe not at all. Peter wasn't sure of anything anymore. The only thing he did know, however, was that he fucked up big time. 

“You need to at least give him a chance, we haven't seen Wade in years. Maybe he changed.” That was Steve's voice, and granted Peter did feel a little bad about listening in on his dads' conversation, but they were speaking so loudly that he couldn't help it.

“People like Deadpool don't change.” Tony countered and Peter could hear the clunky steps of the IronMan suit. Peter rubbed his temples at his on coming headache. With a flick of his webs, Peter pulled himself up and onto the ceiling. Sometimes hanging upside down helps him concentrate and block off his surroundings. In fact, it helped so much that Peter didn't notice his parents coming back into the living room within a few minutes.

“Ahem.” Steve cleared his throat, “Peter, you know our rule about ceilings.”

Peter sighed, “No climbing on the ceilings unless I'm cleaning them.” He chanted the rule as if he has said it a hundred times before, which is most likely. Steve hated to get marks on the ceiling, and whenever they magically appeared, it would be Peter's job to clean them off. And during Spring cleaning, which Steve liked to consider a holiday despite both Peter and Tony telling him countless times that it wasn't, it was Peter's job to clean both his room and every ceiling in the house. After all, Peter was the only one who could scrub them. Other than that, Peter was not allowed on the ceilings, so he dropped down from them to face his parents again. 

“So,” Steve continued, “Before your father and I make any rash decisions.” Steve shot Tony a look, “We have decided that it's only fair to give Wade a chance before judging him. Isn't that right, Tony?”

Tony let out an unwanted and annoyed sigh, clearly this wasn't his decision, “Yeah. He can come over for dinner.” That statement shocked Peter, almost to the point of speechlessness.

“W-wait? Dinner?”

“Of course, we may not be the most traditional family, but we still wanna meet our son's boyfriend.” Steve explained and Peter honestly didn't know how to feel. Tonight was just a mess of surprises. But first things first, if his parents ever wanted to meet Wade, Peter would have to apologize, “How's Thursday?”

Peter was still in awe of the whole situation. His tears were long forgotten and replaced by a state of confused shock that he couldn't seem to shake. Nothing felt real anymore. Things that he dreaded were happening, things he thought he was prepared for were unfolding right before his eyes and Peter sure as hell wasn't ready. And when Peter spoke, he barely recognized his own voice.

“Um, y-yeah. Thursday.” Peter confirmed without really knowing what he was doing at all, “I'll go ask Wade.” His feet started to move and before he knew it, he was walking himself to his own room. Peter absentmindedly searched for then changed into his Spiderman costume. Moments later, he returned to the living room to two very confused parents.

“Pete,” Tony began, his following Peter as he never stopped walking. He was heading towards the window, “Where are you going?”

“To Wade's” Peter answered like it was the simplest thing in the world, but on the inside his heart was racing and every instinct told him not to go. But Peter's outside wouldn't listen. 

“Peter, it's a little late.” Steve pointed out, “Wouldn't Wade be sleeping?” 

Peter knew the answer to that one, he shook his head, “No. Wade doesn't sleep very often.” Even without turning around, Peter knew that his dads exchanged a look. They did that a lot, it's like they always communicate in silence, yet still know exactly what the other is saying. 

“Peter, honey, why don't you wait till tomorrow to go ask Wade?” Steve continued but Peter didn't pay attention. He opened the window and climbed up on the ledge, perching there for a moment or two. Hesitating. Part of him wanted to listen to his Pops, to stay home and go wrap himself up in his blankets. But the other half of Peter, the stronger half, was drawing him towards Wade. 

“I'll be back as soon as I can.” Peter bid his farewells then shot his web, swinging away. Peter wasn't entirely sure what happened back there, he wasn't entirely sure of what happened for this entire evening. But Peter did know one thing for sure, he had no clue what the hell he was doing. 

~~

Steve watched his son swing out the window and into the blackened New York sky. He sighed, despite his best efforts, Steve couldn't get Peter to stay in. He acted like he was okay with this all, and Steve did mean it when he said that they should give Wade a fair chance. But a part of him was still scared. Scared for Peter's safety. As much as Steve didn't want to admit it, Deadpool was still a mercenary, a killer. While Steve did have some sympathy for Wade, they were both experiments after all, he still felt that tinge of fear for Peter. What if Deadpool lost his temper? What if he took it out on Peter? Steve had no idea how Deadpool acts on an everyday basis, and that worried him to no end. 

“Hey.” It was his husbands voice and the hand that he placed on his should that drew Steve's attention away from the window, “Peter's gonna be okay.” It came as a surprise to Steve on how calm Tony was being about this. Well, about the aftermath of it anyway. His reaction to Peter dating Wade wasn't the best, but now Tony seemed back to normal. Steve wrapped an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and Tony wrapped his arm around Steve's waist. Together they stared out the window, waiting for their boy to come home even though he just barely left. 

“Are we doing something wrong Tony?” Steve asked and the question floated heavily in the air for a few seconds before Tony suppressed a sigh and answered.

“I don't think so. Peter's just growing up. He just finally reached the age where he doesn't want to listen to us as often. We're lucky that it wasn't throughout his entire teens.” Tony had a point. Peter was usually a great kid, even in his early teens. Just now, however, Peter's been starting to grow more independent. Steve felt a mixture of pride and loneliness. He didn't want Peter to grow up so soon, though he was pretty sure that was normal for any parent. 

“So you don't think it's because of Wade's influence?” It was a petty question, but Steve just had to ask it.

“Of course I do, I just said that growing up bullshit for your sake.” Normally Steve would have scolded Tony for his foul language, but his mind was on another things tonight. With a kiss on his cheek, Tony went off to bed, he asked Steve if he'll be joining him soon, but Steve just waved off his husband and gave him a lame confirmation. Steve just wanted to stay up for a few more minutes, just in case Peter decided to come home early. What Steve didn't expect, however, was that that night Peter never came home at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're fucking.


	17. Chapter 16

Wade raised a sixth bottle to his lips and took a swig. The beer was cool running down his throat and sent a chill up his spine, but that's about all it did. Wade was incapable of getting drunk, his healing factor always stopped him. But his will never kept him from trying. Wade felt that if he was able to get drunk, he'd be a full blown alcoholic. It would help numb the pain. Both the physical and mental. Alcohol would give him temporary happiness. Wade would love it if he could get drunk. But just like with everything else he wanted, he couldn't have it: Being drunk, death, Peter. 

[There he goes again.]

{You scum.}

That's another reason why Wade wished he could get drunk. Maybe then his voices would shut the fuck up. They're the ones that brought him to this state anyway. After getting home from May's, Wade found himself gravitating towards the kitchen. His thought boxes were throwing shit at him, being a little extra crude. So, even knowing that it'll only make them louder, Wade tried to drown out his voices with some beer. Sooner than he knew it, he was on the kitchen floor going through an entire six pack. Wade had no idea why he put himself through this, beer didn't even taste that great. It didn't do anything for him. And it just made his thought boxes louder and meaner. It was like they were the ones getting drunk. 

{It's because your dumb ass is addicted to the pain.}

[Might as well admit it, you enjoy suffering.]

Normally to Wade that would make no sense, he'd probably even try to argue. But in his state, Wade didn't have the energy to fight against himself. 

[You love it because it's the only thing that makes you feel human.]

{No crazy person would feel pain right?}

Wade wanted to cover his ears, but instead he just took another big gulp of his drink. His thought boxes were giving him an explanation that he never asked for. Wade didn't want to hear this, but when the voices are inside your own head, you can't help but listen. 

{You love pain, but news flash, we're not human.}

Wade wanted to argue, he didn't like pain. No sane person would, but then again, Wade wasn't the least bit sane. But he was still human, he thinks. Sometimes Wade couldn't really tell. Maybe his thought boxes were onto something. Maybe he was addicted to suffering. Maybe that's worse than being an alcoholic. It's not that Wade willingly inflicts pain onto himself, it just sort of happens and he does nothing to stop it. If he gets hurt physically, why should he care? It would heal eventually. But if Wade gets hurt emotionally? Well that's a different story. Emotional wounds are something his healing factor can't save him from. Like any normal person, those wounds would never heal. Maybe that's why Wade always surrounded himself with people who don't give a shit about him. 

[Oh what, like Peter?] 

This time, Wade had to speak up, “Peter's different. He cares about us.”

{Yeah, okay, sure Jan.}

Wade felt a knot forming in his stomach. How dare yellow thought box use a Brady Bunch reference against him? But that wasn't what was important at the moment, they were talking about Peter.

“He does.” Wade didn't know if he said that to convince his thoughts or himself. 

[Maybe you're right. Maybe he does care about us, but we don't care about him.]

“That's not true!” Wade argued with full confidence this time. 

{We're just using him to hurt ourselves.}

“No we're not! Peter he- he-”

[What? He makes us feel like a real person? Like we're worth something? Like we're more than just our skin? Face it. We're as ugly on the inside as we are on the out.]

{We're just using Peter for our own gratification. We're not capable of actually caring about someone. If we were, then we wouldn't always end up alone.}

[Why do you think we kept the Aunt May secret from him?]

“That's not- I-I didn't know!” Wade heard his own voice crack as he helplessly defended himself from himself. In a last desperate attempt, he chugged the rest of his beer. But as predicted, that did nothing to silence his thoughts.

{We should have recognized all the signs.}

[You ignored them on purpose because you knew it would hurt Peter.]

{You wanted to hurt Peter.}

“No I didn't!” That was when Wade lost it, he had enough. Wade took his empty beer bottle and in a fit of blind rage, he chucked it across the kitchen. It broke against a cabinet and shards of glass went flying, decorating the floor in pointed shiny objects, “I...I didn't mean to hurt him.” 

“Wade?” The voice was so soft Wade almost didn't hear it. Wade whipped his head to the side and sure enough standing in his living room was Peter. He was dressed up in his Spiderman outfit, but his mask was off. Peter's hair was a mess and his cheeks, along with his nose, were red. Peter looked as if he just finished crying; his puffy eyes confirmed Wade's suspicion. 

“P-Peter!” Wade scrambled to his feet. His first instinct was to reach for his own mask, but he decided against it, seeing that Peter wasn't wearing his. Wade wouldn't allow himself to hide behind his own mask, after all, he was addicted to pain right? 

“What are you...” Peter's voiced faded as his eyes looked around the kitchen. Wade followed Peter's gaze with his own and realized that Peter was staring at the mess of beer bottles. 

“Oh shit, sorry.” Wade hurried to clean up his mess. He tried to carry all the bottles at once, but one always kept toppling over or falling out of his hands, “Fuck.” He cursed quietly and kept his gaze low. Wade reminded himself over and over again in his head to not look up, just look at the bottles, to keep trying, to keep busy. 

“Wade...” Peter repeated his name but Wade still refused to look up. 

_Don't...don't say my name like that._

Wade set the bottles on the kitchen table, it was so quiet that you could hear the soft clinking of the glass. No one spoke, for once Wade had nothing to say. He could only question himself over and over again. Why was Peter here? Why wasn't he saying anything? Why couldn't he speak? When Wade couldn't avoid it anymore, he turned around to face Peter. He was still standing in the middle of the living room, not having moved a muscle since he entered. 

“Pete I-...” Wade tried speaking, he was suppose to be good at it. 

{You what? You're sorry?}

[You're desperate?]

{You're a mess?}

[All of the above?]

Wade didn't need to finish his sentence, he couldn't. In the time that Wade took to listen to his thought boxes, Peter had closed the distance between them. Wade was shocked when he found himself looking down at Peter, and even more shocked when Peter hugged him. Wade froze, he could barely register what was happening. 

“I'm sorry Wade.” Peter's voice was soft but his grip was tight. He had buried his head in the dip of Wade's shoulder and now Wade could feel every little movement that Peter made. He felt each breath Peter breathed against his neck, he felt each heart beat against Peter's chest, he even felt Peter's fingernails dig slightly into his back. Wade's arms hovered over the slender boy, scared that if he touched Peter, he might fall apart.

[Don't hug back.]

{If you do, it's game over. We lose.}

[We have a way out now.]

Wade knew that. He knew that if he hugged back, it was all over. He wouldn't be able to resist Peter anymore. He wouldn't be able to control his feelings behind cheap jokes and pointless flirtations. If Wade hugged back, it would mean that all is forgiven. If he hugged back, it would mean that he would fall for Peter. And fall hard. Wade could back out now, he had the option. He could push Peter away, far away, before they got too close. He could use this whole Aunt May thing as an excuse. Wade could choose to be alone once again. He didn't have to get Peter involved. And all it would take is a few simple steps backwards. 

Wade hugged back. 

“It's okay Pete.” Wade whispered and buried his face in the crook of Peter's neck. He breathed in Peter's scent, he smelt like newspapers and oranges. He smelt like Peter. They've been spending so much time together that his scent had become familiar to Wade, it became comforting. Wade wrapped his arms more tightly around Peter, nearly crushing his waist in his grip. Peter was small and easily hug-able, but this hug seemed like the hardest thing Wade has ever done. But letting go would be even harder. 

{So that's it, isn't it?}

[Yup. We're officially head over heals for this kid.]

{We're fucked.}

Peter lifted his head off of Wade's shoulder and Wade did the same. He looked into Peter's doe brown eyes, and Peter stared right back into his. It only took a moment's reaction time before Wade realized that Peter closed his eyes and was leaning in slowly. Wade helped guide him the rest of the way by placing his hand on the back of Peter's head and pulling him in. Their lips touched with a delicate violence and just like that, Wade's voices went quiet. The bitter sweet sensation of silence filled Wade's mind as he concentrated on nothing but the boy who was pressed against him. Wade tried his best to keep the kiss light at first. But in the end, he couldn't resist any longer. Wade needed Peter, he was hungry for him. Hungry for more of his touch, for more of his taste, for more of his scent. Wade wanted to become one with every part of Peter right at this moment. And this time, Wade had no one telling him not to.

He pushed Peter against the fridge, one hand buried deep in Peter's thick hair and the other wrapped around his thin waist. Peter's arms were wrapped around Wade's shoulders, one hand held the back of his neck and the other dug into his back. Wade pressed his leg between Peter's, so if he dared to try and move, he would rub himself up against Wade's leg. 

“Peter,” Wade breathed between the kisses, pulling back slightly so that their foreheads touched, “If you want me to stop, you gotta tell me now so I can go take a real cold shower.” Wade looked Peter directly in the eyes, Peter's eyes were telling him yes but he didn't utter a word, “Petey, c'mon that's not good enough. I need verbal consent.” Wade spoke breathlessly, almost impatiently. He wanted nothing more than for this continue, but if Peter didn't want that, then Wade wouldn't force him. 

“K-keep going.” Peter whispered and turned his head away, unable able to look at Wade with his blushing face. Wade couldn't hide his devious smirk as he tilted Peter's head back towards him and he resumed kissing the shy boy. He kissed Peter again and again and again. Wade moved down to kiss along Peter's jaw and then his neck. He felt Peter ball his fist against his back, “Wade, I- it's hot. It's too hot.” Peter whined and Wade had no idea if this was his Spidey-sense acting up or not, but Wade didn't hesitate to pull off Peter's shirt. 

_God this boy is beautiful_

Wade resumed kissing his now bare top baby boy, and he couldn't resist pressing his hands against Peter's chest. He felt the warmth radiating off of Peter and the racing of his heart. Wade was just getting back into the rhythm of things when Peter let another whine escape from his throat.

“It's too h-hot, you're too hot Wade.” Peter tugged at the jacket Wade was wearing. Wade quickly unzipped his hoodie and threw it aside, he was about to take off his T-shirt too but hesitated. If he took it off his shirt, he'd be bare chested as well. 

“Are...are you sure you wanna see all this baby boy?” Wade asked, referring to his skin, to his scars. Peter nodded his head and that simple response gave Wade the confidence he needed. He pulled off his own shirt, tossing it aside. Wade slipped his arm behind Peter's back and pulled him close. Peter's palms were placed flatly against Wade's chest and despite having complained about the heat earlier, things were now getting much, much hotter. Wade pressed Peter against the kitchen table, positioning himself between Peter's legs, their hips pressed against each other. Peter's hands slipped from Wade's chest and gripped the table behind him for support. Wade couldn't help but grin into the kiss once he heard the wood splinter.

“Wade, I-” Peter gasped as Wade started to move his hips and kiss down his neck. Wade smirked against Peter's skin. 

“Getting impatient baby boy?” Wade teased and moved his kisses down to Peter's chest. He could hear Peter's heart thumping, he could practically see it. 

“Sh-shut up Wade.” Peter grumbled and Wade continued his kissing trail down to Peter's stomach. Despite Wade's constant joking behaviour, he couldn't help but to take a moment and admire Peter's body. He was truly breath taking. A little pasty and pale, but Peter's remarkably smooth skin made up for it. A few freckles decorated his flat stomach and his shoulders. Wade couldn't stop himself from sliding his hands up Peter's body as the rest of him slid down. And Wade never looked up until he heard a distressed groan coming from Peter. With one hand, Peter was rubbing his eyes. Now Wade knew that that was his spidey powers acting up. It almost looked painful. 

“It's okay baby boy.” Wade soothed and reached his hand up. He closed Peter's eyes for him, “Just close your eyes and relax.” Wade kissed Peter's stomach gently and that sent a shutter up Peter's body. From that moment on, he knew that Peter was gonna be okay. And finally, Wade's kisses reached Peter's waist line. Wade shot a last glance up, giving Peter one last chance to stop all of this. He didn't, so Wade continued with only one thought in mind.

Peter wouldn't be making it home tonight. 

~~

Wade watched the rise and fall of the blanket with every slow breath that Peter took. Peter was lying down on Wade's chest, fighting off sleep and the mercenary couldn't help but watch. Peter was fucking adorable. Granted, the couch wasn't the comfiest place to be falling asleep on, but Wade didn't pay much mind to it. And to give the readers an idea, their boxers were the only thing that they managed to get back on and they never made it to the bedroom. But now morning was approaching and the two of them started to cuddle on the couch, but Peter was quickly falling asleep. Wade didn't mind though, there was something about watching Peter sleep that was calming.

[That's creepy]

{But look how cute Peter is.}

That was another thing, Wade's thought boxes seemed to have sobered up now. They were much less crude, and a part of Wade was thankful for that. But another part of Wade resented them. He missed the silence that Peter brought with each kiss. Wade's mind was too busy concentrating on Peter himself that it didn't have the time to run wild or add unnecessary comments for comic relief purposes. 

{Excuse me? That's fucking rude.}

But unfortunately just watching his baby boy sleep wasn't enough to distract his mind. Wade tried to ignore his thought boxes anyway. Instead, he'd concentrated on Peter's breathing, or the warmth that was coming off him, or the way his eyes fluttered as they fought to stay open but so often lost. And when Wade couldn't handle to look at anymore cuteness, his gaze would surf around the apartment. Oh boy, the apartment. It was now a lot messier than it had been before and, well, let's just say they're gonna need a new kitchen table. But to Wade? That counted as a victory. 

“mmph, Wade.” Peter groaned so lowly that Wade almost didn't hear him.

“Yes Sweetums?” Wade chimed and started to stroke Peter's hair. 

“I forgot to tell you something.” Peter mumbled against Wade's chest, “What're you doing Thursday?”

{Probably trying to fuck you again.}

[Don't say that.]

“I dunno.” Wade gave a hearty shrug, “Why?”

“Because,” Peter began and positioned himself so he could look at Wade, “My dads want to meet you.”

At the news, Wade quickly scrambled up and over the edge of the couch, causing Peter to fall face first into the cushions. Wade stood up now with panic in his stance. 

“They want to what!?” Wade shouted but immediately regretted it once he saw Peter flinch. He had to remind himself that normal people don't like shouting in the morning, “Sorry baby boy, they want to what?”

“My dads,” Peter groaned as he sat up, “They wanna have you over for dinner on Thursday.”

Wade jumped over the armrest of the couch and landed back on his seat. He crossed his legs to match Peter's as he faced his baby boy, “Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, what would I wear?” Wade meant it as a joke, but Peter frowned. 

[He took us seriously.]

{Petey reads too much into things.}

“You can wear your Deadpool costume, my dads won't mind.” Peter rubbed his neck, he did that a lot. Wade picked up on a bunch of little things Peter did, he naturally has to be observant as a mercenary. Some of Peter's quirks Wade didn't understand, others he found unbearably adorable. Like the neck rubbing when he feels awkward, or how he runs his fingers through his hair whenever stressed. But Wade's favourite thing about Peter? It's that when his baby boy is tired, he gets unusually affectionate. Almost like a stubborn cat who never wants to cuddle, but when they do, you can't get them off your lap. 

Wade eyed Peter with suspicion, “Who exactly are your parents?”

More neck rubbing, now with a tint of eye shifting, “W-what do you mean?”

{We forgot his stutter. He has the most adorable stutter.}

“They're okay with meeting their son's boyfriend when he's dressed as a mercenary?” Wade question, trying to meet Peter's gaze again, but Peter wouldn't give in. He'd fidget with the blanket that was wrapped around his shoulders or pick lint off the sofa, never meeting Wade's eyes. The anxious part of Wade told him to believe it was something to do with his face, but he tried to push that thought away. 

“They're okay with respecting your secret identity.” Peter corrected, glancing at Wade for a split second then focusing back on playing with the hem of the blanket, “I mean, if you wanna show your face you can.” It was Wade's turn to look away now. He stayed silent for a moment, it's not that he was pondering the thought of leaving his mask off, it's more of how he couldn't. Wade was fully aware that, judging by the good kid Peter is, his parents would most definitely disprove of him. And Wade felt that showing them his face would only bring more shame, he didn't want to embarrass Peter any more than he was already going to. 

“I'll wear my mask.”

“Wade, you know I didn't mean-”

“Hey,” Wade interrupted, not in the mood for yet another apology. How sensitive did Spidey think he was? “If I get upset right now, can we have more make up sex?” That comment did the job, it shut Peter up. Wade watched his face go from sympathy to Mama J's tomato garden. Granted, Wade was just kidding around, but if Peter said yes who would he be to say no? 

“Wade I- that wasn't-” Peter became a stuttering mess as he forced himself to get off the couch and gather up his clothing. He slipped back into his Spiderman suit, “We didn't have make up sex.”

“Petey-Pie,” Wade began, stretching his legs on the sofa so he took up most of the room, “We were upset, we had sex, and now you're wearing last night's clothing to do the walk of shame. That's the whole aesthetic around make up sex. Well actually, it's basically tradition that you leave a piece of clothing here, everyone loses some of their clothes before the walk of shame. I vote your pants-” 

“Wade.” Peter cut in sharply, “Shut up.”

{Good, make him angry. That would lead to something interesting.}

“And we're not having angry sex either.” Peter proclaimed before Wade could even get a word in. Not that he would anyway because now he was in shock. Like, eyes widened mouth dropped shock. 

“How did- are you- can you hear them?” Wade hated that he had a hint of hope in his voice. But the way Peter just stared at him told Wade the answer to his question. 

“No, I just knew that that was probably what you were thinking.” 

{Aww, baby boy can't hear us.}

[Pity, it would be fun to talk to someone else once in a while.]

“Wade,” Peter continued, now fully dressed in his Spiderman suit all except for his mask. Peter walked over and pushed Wade's legs off the couch, taking a seat beside him, “Can I ask you something about you're, uh, voices?”

{He wants to talk to us! Do I look okay?}

[You look fine.]

“Thought boxes.” Wade corrected, ignoring what was going on in his head, “They're called my thought boxes.”

“Why do you call them that?”

Wade shifted in his seat, “Because one's in a yellow box and one's in a white.”

{Well technically we're in brackets that you can find on your keyboard.}

[That's just for the sake of representation.]

“There's two of them?” There was something about the way Peter was asking these questions that made Wade uncomfortable. He felt the need to constantly shift positions or sometimes he found that he couldn't even look at Peter at all. 

“Yeah, there's two of them.” Wade confirm, tapping his foot on the ground. 

“Are they talking to you right now?” Peter was just asking question after question. Wade blamed the scientific nerd side of Peter for this.

[At least he's a cute nerd.]

Wade nodded his head, a part of him wanted to know where Peter was going with all of this. Why was he so interested? But another part of Wade wanted Peter to shut the fuck up. What business did he have with his thought boxes? And the way Peter was looking at him, god Wade hated it. He didn't know what about Peter's gaze that he didn't like, there was just something about it. 

“What are they saying?” Peter scooted closer to Wade as if the closer he got, the clearer the boxes would appear to him. Wade knew better though, no one could see his boxes but him.

[Quick say something cool, this is our chance to impress.]

“Quick say something cool, this is our chance to impress.” Wade chanted monotonously. 

{Peter's ass.}

“Peter's ass.”

[What?]

“What?”

{What's more impressive than Peter's ass?}

“What's more impressive than Peter's ass?”

[That's a fair point. Nothing's more impressive than that.]

“That's a fair point. Nothing's more-”

“Okay!” Peter interrupted, holding up his hands to signal Wade to stop, “I get it. Do they always talk to each other, or do they talk to you too?”

{Why so many fucking questions?}

[I feel like we should be in one of those rooms with a detective and a single lamp lighting the space.]

“A little bit of both I guess.” Wade felt a wave of uncertainty, it's not like there was right answer or anything. But Wade felt the pressure that there was. It was like a multiple choice test with an all of the above answer. Should he circle all of the above? Or be more specific? What do they want!? Out of all of this, Wade discovered one thing about himself. He hated talking about his thought boxes.

“Huh.” Peter finally ran out of questions, but that look in his eyes that Wade hated came back, “Interesting.” 

Wade went to concentrating on the ground as his eyes became hyper aware of any and every detail. Each line on the floor, everywhere it was scuffed or scratched or cracked, Wade saw it. He even tried to focus of the taco sauce stain from last week, but nothing seemed to distract him. It may just have been a few seconds, but to Wade it felt much longer. He could feel Peter's eyes on him. Peter was staring. Something about this feeling felt familiar, like he's been here before. Wade recognized this sensation as he balled his hands into fist so hard that his nails threatened to break the skin. 

“Don't look at me like that.” Wade spat through gritted teeth, “Like...like I'm some kind of _experiment._ ” The word tasted like poison in his mouth. He felt every syllable of it as it rose up his throat and came out. It stung and left a bitter taste on Wade's tongue. 

“Oh.” Peter quickly looked away, now staring at anything else but Wade, realizing his mistake. Wade felt like there was a weight lifted off his shoulders, a pressure that was released. And now his anger could bubble down, “Sorry.” Peter was shit at apologizing. 

Wade glanced from Peter, to the floor, and back again. He felt a grin tug at his lips and soon enough it took over his face. Peter looked over at Wade and a tiny chuckled escaped from his mouth at seeing Wade's big goofy smile.

“What's that look for?” 

“Make up sex?” Wade answered Peter's question with one of his own and leaned in close to him. But at his request, Peter's smile dropped and twisted his face into amused annoyance. He pushed Wade's head away.

“Are you always this annoying?” Peter's words were harsh, but his smile gave it away that he wasn't being serious. 

“As annoying as a horny guy in a pair of boxers can get.” Wade set his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the armrest of the couch and set his legs onto Peter's lap. Peter let out a groan and Wade a laugh. With his head leaned back against the couch, Peter sighed. 

“I should be getting home, you know, before my parents start to worry too much. And I gotta go back to Aunt May's today too, to apologize and shit.” Peter pushed Wade's legs off of him and stood up, grabbing his mask from the floor. 

“Yeah, this chapter was starting to drag on anyway.” Whenever Wade broke the fourth wall, he never expected a reaction from Peter anymore. His baby boy was use to it. At most, Peter would give him a strange look but pass it off as Wade just being 'Deadpool.' “You do stay out too late too often though. It's like the author is trying too hard not to turn you into a Mary-Sue.”

[The author says Fuck You.]

{Yeah, it's hard to know what you guys would be like in a relationship when you're not even cannon.}

Peter gave Wade that strange look, “What are you going on about?” Peter slipped his mask on, “It's just a bad habit of mine. I blame you.” He walked over to the window and opened it.

{What!?}

[It is not our fault!]

“What!?” Wade jumped up from the couch, “It is not our- er- my fault!” 

Peter laughed, “I'll see you Thursday, Wade. I'll be here around 5 to pick you up.”

“I don't get a kiss goodbye?” Wade said but Peter was already out the window and swinging away, “He's gonna owe us some more sex to make up for this.”

[You're unbelievable.]

Wade chuckled as he watched Spiderman swing away and out of his sight, “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half of the cookie.


	18. Chapter 17

Peter paced back and forth in the living room of his apartment...Wade's apartment? Fuck it. He paced back and forth in the living room of the apartment. Wade was in the bedroom getting changed. He tried to wear a dress over his Deadpool costume, but Peter told him not to. Wade was meeting Peter's parents tonight and Peter, while his parents would probably be accepting of men wanting to wear dresses, didn't want Wade showing up in one. If it was just the two of them it would have been fine, Peter finds Wade's dresses more than amusing. But tonight was different, tonight was special, tonight had to be perfect. Or at least, as perfect as an evening with Deadpool can get. But there was one minor detail that Peter forgot to mention to Wade, who his parents were. It wasn't that Peter didn't want to tell Wade, he actually tried to tell him on numerous occasions this week, but Peter always chickened out. How was he suppose to tell Deadpool that he already knew his parents? Because Wade did. He knew IronMan and Captain America, Deadpool teamed up with them once or twice. It never ended well. So how was Peter expected to tell Wade that his dads were Steve Rogers and Tony Stark? He wasn't, he couldn't. Peter was leaving it up to the element of surprise instead. 

“How's this?” Wade announced before he was even in the hall. He came into the living room a few seconds later and, to Peter's surprise, he was just wearing his Deadpool costume. Except for one detail. There was a bow tie around his neck. Peter snorted with laughter.

“Well, it's better than the dress.”

“Hey!” Wade pointed an accusing finger at Peter, “I looked great in that. It was slimming.” 

“Yes Wade, you looked fabulous.” Peter's tone was dripping with sarcasm. In all honesty though, Wade did look pretty good in the dress he wanted to wear, but Peter would never tell him that. “But you have to be serious this evening.”

“I'm always serious!” 

Peter just stared at Wade in silence, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I mean...most of the time.”

More silence.

“Sometimes?”

“Wade.”

“Alright, alright. I'll be on my best behaviour.” Wade gave in with a grouch and Peter smiled with satisfaction. Although it did nothing to calm his nerves. After the meeting with Aunt May, Peter could only pray that this one would go much smoother. 

“Are we ready?” Peter asked as he slipped on his Spiderman mask. Wade stuck out his arms as if he expected to be carried by Peter, which he technically was going to be. They were swinging their way to Stark Tower. Peter sighed and picked up Deadpool bridal style, “You have to be the biggest baby I know.”

Wade nuzzled his head against Peter's shoulder, “Oh Petey, you make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”

Peter rolled his eyes heavily, “Just hang on tight.” That was the only warning Wade got before Peter shot his web and jumped out the window, swinging them both into the evening sky of New York. Peter usually found web slinging relaxing, it helped him think. Deadpool, on the other hand, hated it. And therefore Peter hated web slinging with Wade. There's nothing relaxing or head-clearing about having someone scream into your ear with every passing second. In fact, Wade was so distracted with shouting into Peter's ear that Peter's unsure Wade even realized they came to a stop right in front of Stark Tower. 

“Wade.” Peter's voice cuts through Wade's yelling, “You can let go now.” Peter could only guess that Wade had his eyes closed beneath his mask because two seconds after Peter spoke, Wade let out a surprised 'oh.' Deadpool climbed off of Peter and brushed himself off, adjusting his bow tie.

“How do I look?” Wade stood back so Peter could get a full view of his body. 

“You look fine, now c'mon.” Peter grabbed Wade by his wrist and dragged him into the building. As predicted, Jarvis greeted them.

“Welcome back Peter and 'My Dope-Ass Fresh Prince'.” 

Both Peter and Wade halted at the same time, but for different reasons. 

“My Dope-Ass Fresh Prince?” Peter turned to Deadpool for an explanation.

“We're in Stark Tower!?” Wade turned to Peter for an explanation. As a result, both of them were left speechless. It was as Peter had suspected, Wade had been too busy screaming his head off to realize where they were, but Peter never would have guessed that Wade had been in Stark Tower before. Jarvis only knew how to greet people he was programmed to and by the name that they wished. Apparently Deadpool got Jarvis to call him 'Dope Ass Fresh- whatever', Rather than the standard Mr or Sir. So this evening was off to a weird start and Peter didn't even introduce Wade to his parents yet. In hopes to ignore what just happened, Peter continued to drag Wade over to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. 

“Remember what I told you, Wade.” It wasn't a question, but a statement. Peter wasn't giving Wade the choice to forget. 

“You are deformed. And you are ugly.” Wade sing-songed, earning a bizarre look from Peter, “You know, the Hunchback of Notre Dame? No?” 

“I'm serious Wade!” Peter couldn't keep the whine out of his voice as the elevator doors opened and the two of them stepped in.

“I know, I know. Don't mention my mercenary biz, and absolutely...” It wasn't until the elevator jolted to a start did Wade's voice start to fade out, “..no...swear-...swearing.” Wade stumbled over a few steps and gripped the side bar on the wall, his back was facing the closed doors.

“Wade?” Peter pulled off his Spiderman mask and glanced at the merc with concern, “Are you okay?” When Wade didn't answer, Peter tried again, “Wade? What's wrong?”

“...Pete...” Wade spoke breathlessly as his grip tightened on the bar, he seemed to be putting all his weight on his arms, “Are- Are we in an elevator?”

Peter looked around as if to double check, “Um, yeah. Did you not notice? Wade what's going on?”

“I just-” Wade gulped, “I don't like elevators. They're too small.” 

Oh. Now Peter understood.

“Wade, are you claustrophobic?” 

“Um, yeah. Somethin' like that.” Wade huffed then added, “Just don't let me see the closed doors, okay?”

Peter nodded at the slightly odd request, but happily obliged anyway. He couldn't deny that he was curious as to why Wade was this way. Peter could only assume that it's because of Weapon-X, and while Peter would love know the answer, he was too shy to ask. Probably not the right time either. Peter studied Wade and his body language. Hunched over and leaning on a bar for support, grip tight and knees shaking. Peter closed the small distance between him and Wade and pried one of Wade's hands off the bar. Peter intertwined his fingers with Wade's as a sign to let him know that he wasn't going anywhere. Without a word, Deadpool only glanced at Peter then went back to staring at the floor until the elevator finally dinged and the doors parted. Both Peter and Wade darted out. 

Peter's note to self: Don't let Wade get into small spaces. 

Once out of the elevator, almost immediately, Wade returned to his normal self. Or at least, that's what his body language said, he stood up straighter and stopped shaking, but Wade still had a death grip on Peter's hand. 

“You okay?” Peter asked, just to make sure. 

“Course I am baby boy.” Wade answered and slung his arm around Peter's shoulders, letting go of his hand, “That elevator scene was just foreshadowing for something later.” 

Peter didn't have time to laugh before someone further in the room cleared his throat. It was Tony. 

“Ahem.” 

Peter and Wade's heads turned simultaneously. In front of them, just a few feet away, were Peter's parents. Peter sucked in one last shaky breath before speaking. This was it. 

Now or never. 

“Um-” That's all Peter managed to say. Not even a single word before Wade interrupted him. Oh shit. 

“Hey!” Wade's tone was pure excitement as he strode over to Steve and Tony, “It's Captain America and the Tin Man! Long time no team-up guys! You know...” Peter could only assume that Deadpool kept talking, but his voice barely registered into Peter's ears. Peter could hear, feel, and smell nothing but despair. It thickly coated the air and Peter felt like gagging every time he breathed in. This wasn't off to a good start. Like, it wasn't the worst way this could have gone, Peter imaged much much worse. But he instantly regretted not telling Wade that his dads were Captain America and IronMan. He should have done it, Wade would have -after having a little freak out because he fucking loves Captain America- understood. But Peter could never bring himself to tell Wade. It's hard to tell someone something after being told to keep it a secret your whole life. 

“Hey Petey-poo?” Peter snapped back into the dreadful reality of this situation as Wade called to him, “Why are we here exactly?” Not a second later, a light bulb seemed to have lit up above Wade's head, “Oh! Is this official Avengers biz?” Apparently it was the wrong light switch, “Need to make a quick stop before we go? It's cool, I understand.” Wade backed away from all three of them with his hands up, “Actually, speaking of official business, mind if I use your washroom? Gotta admit, I was stress eating before we got here and hotdogs are not a good stress food. Where is it?” 

“It's down the hall.” Steve answered and pointed the way. Wade only responded with a click of his tongue and finger guns as he backed out of the room and dashed down the hall. Peter's shoulders slumped with the new weight of his parents' eyes being on him. Peter put on his famous guilty grin as he rubbed the back of his neck and turned to his dads. 

“I mean...it could have been worse...right?” It was a long shot, Peter knew that, but he took it anyway. He knew by his parents expressions that they weren't impress. Who could blame them? “Okay in his defense,” Peter continued, “I didn't exactly, you know, tell him who you guys were.” The longer Peter spoke, the more he mumbled. 

“I want him out of my house.” Tony grumbled and earned an elbow in his ribs from Steve. 

“Give him a chance, Tony.” 

“I did! Just now! And he blew it. I need my 'disapprove' stamp.” 

Peter frowned, “C'mon dad, please?” Peter knew that his dad couldn't resist his sad eyes. Sad eyes were Tony's weakness, whether it be on Peter or Steve, he always cracked. Tony didn't have many weak spots, some could argue he had none at all. Tony Stark did have the reputation of being a heartless asshole. But Peter knew better. Peter knew that there wasn't anything Tony wouldn't do for his family

Tony groaned but Peter could detect joy in it as his dad wrapped an arm around Peter's neck and pulled him in. Tony leaned down so that their faces were level and their cheeks almost touching, “Fine.” Tony grinned before continuing, “But if he stinks up my bathroom, he's outta here.” 

Peter laughed and pried himself out of his father's grip before he could ruffle his hair. It was at this moment that Wade returned, wiping his hands together as he walked towards Peter. 

“You ready to go Pete?” 

Peter chewed on his bottom lip and gave Wade a look that said that he was up to something, “Um Wade, I want you to meet my parents.” 

“No shit Sherlock, now let's gooo before we're late. I actually want to try and make a good impression.” Wade obviously wasn't cluing in on his own, so it was up to Peter to tell him. 

“Wade.” Peter tried to speak sternly, signalling for Wade to shut up, “This is my dad Tony, and my other dad Steve.”

Peter knew the instant that it dawn upon Wade, he could see it. First came the confused double take of his head as he looked from Peter, to his parents, and back again. Then Wade weakly pointed a finger in their direction before drawing in a long gasp and place his hands on either side of his face. Peter felt second hand embarrassment for him.

“Oooohhh shit, you mean-? I just-” Wade couldn't find the words to say, he couldn't think of a proper explanation or excuse for his behaviour just a few minutes ago. Wade was just being Wade, “Well damn.” 

Peter turned to his parents now, “Pops, Dad, as you probably already know, this is Wade.” Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could spot Wade waving almost shyly towards his parents. It was a pathetic attempt at another first impression, but Peter couldn't blame him for trying.

“Wade.” Steve said and nodded his head in greetings. 

“Captain.” Wade nodded back, strangely professional. Peter knew that Wade and Steve had some sort of past together, they've team up before. He also knew that his Pops and Wade had a strange connection nobody really understood, they were both experiments so they shared that bond. With that said, Steve wasn't necessarily a huge fan of Deadpool, but Peter knew that Steve did treat him with a bit more respect than the rest. 

“Deadpool.” Tony was brief and gruff with his greeting. His former hostility returning. Peter knew for a fact that Tony hated Wade. Peter hoped that he could change that. 

“Tin Man.” If it wasn't obvious, Wade wasn't a fan of Tony either. 

“Wade.” Peter shot Deadpool a glare, he told him not to call anybody any names during the dinner. That clearly wasn't going to happen. Peter just prayed that Wade would at least follow some of the rules Peter laid down before hand, although there was a lot to remember.

“Baby boy.” Wade nodded to Peter and grinned beneath his mask when he saw Peter was bristling. Now he knew that Wade was breaking the 'no nicknames' rule on purpose. And now that introductions were done, silence threaten to fall over them. Peter braced himself, he wasn't great with awkward situations. Both to Peter's dread and pleasure, Wade kept talking, “So lemme get this straight. You're the mysterious kid that Captain America and IronMan adopted together?” Wade scratched his head in amazement. 

“Um, yeah. Surprise.” Peter offered up another one of his guilty grins. 

“What the hell did I get myself into.” Wade joked with playful seriousness, but behind Peter Steve let out a audible huff of discomfort. Wade then leaned in to whisper in Peter's ear, “Guessing that's the dad who hates swearing?” 

Peter nodded and whispered back, “Ya think?” 

Wade stood up straight and saluted Steve, “Sorry Captain- Uh- Mr. Peter's Dad Sir!” Wade was being ridiculous, but funny. It was better than awkward silence. 

“You can call me Steve, Wade.” It was a nice gesture, and Wade seemed pretty excited about it. 

“Alright! So Tony-” Wade began but Tony's glare was enough to shut him up.

“Don't call me that.” 

“Tony.” Steve scolded his husband, “Don't be rude.”

“Can we please just go eat now?” Peter blurted out. He was trying to avoid any conflict that might happen tonight. Peter had a feeling he was gonna be busy. Responsively, they all walked into the kitchen and took their seats. Tony, of course, took his spot at the head of the table. Peter sat to Tony's left and Wade beside Peter. Steve was occupied by pulling their dinner out of the oven. Peter had no idea what his Pops had made. Steve was stressing out about it earlier today, afraid to make something Wade wouldn't like. His first idea was some sort of maple casserole, but Peter figured that was a bit rude to assume Wade liked maple just because he was Canadian, and a bit too advance in the cooking department for Steve So that left Peter clueless, he just hoped it was something good. 

“Wade,” Steve addressed as he set the dish down on the table, “I wasn't quite sure what you liked and what you didn't, so I made one of my best dishes.” This got Peter excited. He leaned forward slightly to see what Steve had made, and once he saw, Steve lived up to his promise. Both Peter and Tony let out an excited gasp. 

“Shepard’s Pie!” Peter exclaimed, just about ready to dig into this dish before it was even served. Wade looked over at Peter and leaned in. 

“Something special about his Shepard's Pie?” Wade whispered and Peter almost had to hold in his gasp of shock. He reminded himself that Wade had never had Steve's Shepard's Pie before. He was in for a treat. 

“It's the best I've ever had.” Peter left out the small detail that no one else have ever made Shepard's Pie for him, but Peter was convinced that Steve's would still be the best. Wade gave a hearty shrug as if to say that he too was excited to try this dish. Steve served them up each a piece. 

“I love your apron.” Wade commented on the apron Steve was wearing, he had a knack to keep the conversation going even with the most aimless of topics. 

Steve smiled and untied the apron from his waist, hanging it on a nail on the kitchen wall, “Thank you Wade. You know, Tony got it for me as a joke gift, but I took a liking to it anyway.” It was true, the apron was just a joke. Since Steve was the one who always did all the cooking, Tony figured that he should have an apron. As a joke, Tony got Steve the pinkest, frilliest apron he could find. The joke, however, didn't go as Tony had planned. Steve loved the apron and wore it any time he entered the kitchen. Buying Steve pink fluffy and/or frilly things was kind of a run-on joke in Peter's house. First were the bunny slippers, which Steve loved, then the apron, which Steve also adored. Now any time Tony saw anything pink or fluffy, he would buy it for his husband.

They were now all seated at the table and Peter couldn't wait to dig into his Shepard's Pie. Other than the macaroni tomato soup and hamburger casserole, this was his favourite food that his Pops would make, excluding all desserts of course. Silence fell over the table and Peter felt a small knot in his stomach. The last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward. Sometimes everything flowed smoothly, and other times it was heavy awkwardness. Peter really wanted his parents to like Wade, not Deadpool, but Wade. Peter almost felt like it was responsibility to prove to Steve and Tony that Wade isn't who they think he is. There was a whole other side to him that they had no idea about. Peter was determined that tonight would be the night that they saw the Wade he knew. 

Forks quietly clinked against plates as everyone started to eat their meal. Well, almost everyone. Peter noticed while taking his first bite that Wade wasn't eating. In fact, he was barely moving at all; he was just staring down at his plate. His hands were near his neck, meaning they were near the edges of his mask. They hovered, hesitating. Peter frowned sympathetically and gently placed his hand on Wade's thigh. It was a small gesture, but Peter hoped it helped. Wade glanced his way and Peter gave a small smile, as if to say it was okay. Wade gave no reaction, no indication that he got Peter's message. He went back to staring down at his plate and released a small breath. Slowly, Wade lifted up his mask just enough to uncover his mouth. Peter noticed how Wade shrunk into himself and began to eat timidly. Peter looked up at both his parents, they were both looking at Wade. Steve had an expression of slight shock and Tony of slight discuss. Tony open his mouth, about to say something, but then caught Peter's eye. Peter was glaring at both his parents, now sending them silent messages. 

_Don't you dare._

Peter's eyes were enough to warn off his parents, he was almost taunting them into trying something. As if he was challenging them to say something about Wade and see what would happen. Peter's eyes were promises that the result would not be a good one. So they kept silent, not staring at Wade for more than a few seconds before they went back to eating. Peter let out a small puff of air then turned back to the enjoyment of his own Shepard's Pie. God he loved this dish. Tony loved this dish. Steve loved this dish. Peter just hoped Wade would love it as much as the rest of his family does. Peter looked at Wade to see if he was excited, but Peter couldn't tell. Wade appeared to be in deep thought and not at all enthusiastic. That wasn't normal for Wade.

_Oh God he hates it._ Peter's mind started to run wild. _He's hates Shepard’s Pie. He hates my family. He hates me now. Wade regrets coming here. He regrets this whole thing. This was a bad idea._ Peter was so wrapped up in his own uncontrolled thoughts that he barely realized everyone was now looking at him. 

Tony cleared his throat, “Peter you look-”

“-well fucked?” Wade asked casually. Peter was appalled, and by the looks on his fathers' faces, they were too. 

“Wade!” Peter shouted and Wade looked at him innocently. It was like he wasn't even acknowledging what he just said or saw nothing wrong with it. Wade stared at Peter in wait, chewing the bite that he took of his food. 

“Wha?” Wade spoke with his mouth full. Peter's glower was enough to answers his question, “...did I say what I think I just said out loud?” 

“Wait.” Tony's voice boomed throughout the room although he wasn't yelling. Tony could make his voice bounce off of any wall, making him all the more threatening when angry, “Do you two-”

It was Peter's turn to interrupt his dad, his face turning bright shades of red and pink, “Dad I swear to god if you say fondue.” 

Wade snorted with laughter, banging his fist on the table, “Oh my god! I love that! I'm totally gonna call sex 'fondue' from now on.” 

Peter felt any shred of hope he had that this evening might go well shrivel up inside him. With his hopes now wilted, Peter buried his head in his hands, “Oh my god.” Could this night get any worse? Peter didn't think so. 

“This isn't really appropriate dinner talk.” Leave it up to Steve to try to save the day. Well, in this case, save the conversation, “So Wade, how's work going?” 

“That's suppose to be appropriate dinner talk? He's a mercenary Steve!” 

“I'm just trying to make nice conversation, Tony.”

“Pops, Dad, please don't fight.” 

“I'm actually an ex-mercenary.” It was Wade's comment that seemed to shut Peter's parents up. Both of them stared at Wade in shock, or disbelief, or both. At their silence, Wade continued, “I don't do the killing thing anymore.” 

“Wait, so how do you make money?” Tony asked, his finger pointed accusingly at Wade, “If you plan on getting serious with my son I need to know you can support him financially.” 

“Dad!” Peter reviled but his protest seemed to go unheard. The conversation continued. 

“I'm in the hero biz now...kinda.” Wade explained but Tony merely scoffed in response.

“You're the last person on earth that could become a hero.” 

“Ton-” Steve began but it was Peter's voice that was the loudest.

“Dad, stop it!” The room fell silent at Peter's shouting, “Wade did give up being a mercenary and he's trying his best to do the right thing! He's been helping me with an investigation and he's doing a great job, okay? It's not impossible for him to be a hero! He- He-” Shit. Peter was losing his roll, his train of thought. This happened more often than not; Peter would be yelling or shouting but then his thoughts would get all jumbled in his brain and his tongue would stop working. Wade set a hand on Peter's shoulder and smiled with what little of his mouth was visible. 

“Thanks Pete.” 

Wade's thank you seemed to have calmed Peter down a bit, his turmoil draining from his body. Peter suddenly felt very embarrassed for his little outburst, if you could even call it that. He sank low in his chair as a thick silence coated the room. 

“So.” Steve's voice cut through the fabric of the silence, “Who wants dessert?” 

Everyone else nodded their heads in quiet agreement as Steve started to clean up their plates, making a pile of dirty dishes by the sink. Peter sank even lower in his chair, closing his eyes to try and get a moment of peace. 

“Peter honey,” Steve spoke as his head was inside the fridge, “Sit up, you're gonna ruin your posture.” 

Peter could swear his Pop's had eyes on the back of his head. Begrudgingly, Peter sat up and avoided eye contact with anyone who looked his way. Steve emerged from the fridge carrying a large glass bowl with a stand, almost resembling that of a wine glass. 

“I didn't know what you liked Wade, so I made a little of everything and put it in layers.” Steve said and set his trifle on the kitchen table. He got out some glass dishes and a serving spoon, scooping a spoonful of the trifle into each bowl and passed them around the table. Wade put on a smile as he spoke, but Peter could tell it was fake.

“No worries Cap, I like a little of everything.” Peter studied Wade's face. His mask didn't have the normal lines or creases that folded whenever Wade was genuinely happy or excited. Peter was confused on to why Wade was faking it. Steve was a great cook, but an even better baker. Though Peter supposed Wade wouldn't know that.

Steve merely smiled in response and sat back down. At this point, nobody had anything to say so they all began eating. The silence, however, only lasted seconds. 

“Holy shit! This is amazing!” Wade exclaimed right after taking his first bite. Moments later, Wade caught himself swearing and tried to make up for it, “Oh shit- fuck- ah, sorry-” Peter shoved a spoonful of the trifle into Wade's mouth to shut him up. Wade gave a thumbs up in appreciation. 

“I'm glad you're enjoying it.” Steve chuckled awkwardly, and that was the end of that conversation. In fact, it was the end of all conversation, for now. Everyone was indulging in their dessert that there was no time to talk. After dinner, however, there was a brief argument on who would clean up. It wasn't a real argument though, more like one out of politeness. Wade tried on insisting that he could tidy up the table, but Steve wasn't having it. On the side lines, Peter stayed quiet. He enjoyed watching this little bicker, it had a real homey feeling to it. Like this was the way things were suppose to go. It felt normal. Well, as normal as a family of superheroes could get. Peter smiled to himself.

“Peter,” Steve turned towards his son, hands placed on his hips, “Please bring Wade to the living room, he is our guest after all. Tony and I will handle clean up.” This request was less directed at Peter and more so directed at Wade, well, directed indirectly. Point was, Wade didn't have a choice in this and Steve wanted to make that clear. 

Peter smiled and got up, setting his hand on Wade's back to guide him to the living room, “Come on Wade.” 

“Look I really don't mind-” Wade began but Peter shushed him, leaning in and whispering.

“Listen. When Steve has his mind set on something, it's best not to argue. He's stubborn like that, almost like he's a tree unwilling to move.” 

“Do you know how badly I wanna break the fourth wall right now?” Wade snickered as the two of the made their way out of the kitchen and settled themselves on the couch. It was gonna take a little while before Peter's parents would join them, so Peter and Wade had some alone time. While Peter was hesitant at first, he eventually snuggled against Wade although he was always on alert for his parents walking into the room. Peter was gradually getting more and more affectionate, but being affectionate in front of his fathers was a step he wasn't ready for. Peter glanced up at Wade and saw him began to pull down his mask.

“Wait.” Peter said and sat up, pulling Wade's hands away from his face. He took Wade's mask and pulled it up so he could see his eyes. 

“Uh, Pete? What're ya doing?” Wade's face was etched mainly with confusion, but also a hint of fear. Not of Peter, but of his parents. Wade's eyes repeatedly darted from Peter to the doorway of the kitchen, now on edge for anyone who might enter the room. 

“I wanted to see your face.” Peter answered simply, concentrating on studying Wade's features. 

“I know I'm a handsome devil, but do we really gotta do this now?”

Peter smiled halfheartedly and pulled Wade's mask back down, “I just needed to see if you were enjoying yourself.” Peter cuddled against Wade's side once again and Wade put his arm back around Peter's shoulders. 

“Why didn't ya just ask?” 

“Because, your face is easier to read than your words.” Peter explained, “And it's hard to see your face with your mask on.” 

Wade chuckled lightly to himself, “When you say shit like that it makes it really hard not to fuck you right here, right now.” 

“Wade!” Peter slapped Wade's knee, “My dads are in the other room!”

“Yeah, and we can hear you perfectly!” Tony's voice called from inside the kitchen which made Peter deflate. He groaned with embarrassment and considered just painting his face the colour of a blush. That seemed to be his default form now. And Wade? Well, he was quietly laughing his head off. He kissed the top of Peter's head. 

“Heh, sorry Petey.” 

“I hate you.” Peter claimed but didn't mean it. This made Wade laugh some more. 

“Man, I remember when you use to say that sincerely.” Wade teased and received an elbow in his ribs from Peter. It was at that moment that Tony walked in the room, Steve following closely behind him carrying a tray. Peter swiftly sat up partly out of mortification and partly because he knew what was coming, although Steve's tray was unusually full tonight. It was almost like a tradition now; every night after supper Peter and his family would settle down on the couch and have some drinks. Peter always drank orange pop, it was his favourite. Tony, of course, usually had an alcoholic drink, most of the time it was a martini. And Steve, he routinely stuck with either tea or coffee. Normally Steve's tray of drinks contained only three, for obvious reasons. There was no doubt that Peter was expecting there to be one extra drink on the tray tonight, the extra one being for Wade of course. What Peter didn't expect, however, was a tray full of a variety of drinks. Like, a lot. Steve had nearly every liquid available in their home on this single platter. Everything from cream soda to milk. Peter first looked at his dad for an explanation, but Tony just shrugged.

“Uh, Pops, what's with all the drinks?” Peter asked, pointing to all the glasses in Steve's hands. Steve set the tray down on the coffee table before beginning his justification.

“I didn't know what Wade would have wanted, so I brought some of everything.” At the mention of his name, Wade was suddenly paying attention. He seemed shock, as if he couldn't believe someone would go to such lengths just for him. Let alone Captain America himself. 

“You could have just asked him.” It was Tony who pointed out the obvious, as he so often does. He took a taunting sip from his martini, his eyes burning holes through everyone. Steve shot his husband a look before directing his attention back to Wade.

“So, Wade, you're options are: coke, orange soda, lemonade, fruit punch, water, milk and Pepsi lime.” Steve scratched the back of his head, realizing that in this rare occasion Tony might actually be right. It would have just been easier to ask. 

Wade shrugged and took the glass of lemonade, “Hey do you guys have ice?” Peter knew that Wade didn't have the intention to be rude, in fact, the statement wasn't in the least bit rude at all. But it make Steve tense up, he wasn't an ice kind of person. Steve kinda had a bad history with ice, so it make him uncomfortable. 

“Yeah I'll get it!” Peter spoke quickly and practically launched himself off the couch. He grabbed Wade's glass and darted for the kitchen, leaving his parents alone with Wade. Peter knew he might regret this decision later, god knows what would happen when all three of them are left alone, but Peter was more just focused on getting ice right now. He walked up to his fridge and the ice machine. As it rumbled, he could hear voices from the living room, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Peter felt a mixture of content and fear. He was happy that there was a slight chance that they were getting along, and fearful of what they were getting along about. Peter, as predicted, regretted his choice to leave the room for not even two minutes. Back in the living room, Steve was showing Wade an old photo album. This was turning into a freaking baby picture visit. 

“Peter never liked peas as a kid.” Steve was in the middle of explaining a story when he looked up to see a fuming red Peter stand in front of him. Peter was clutching on tightly to Wade's glass of now ice cold lemonade.

“Pops, what are you doing?” Peter's tone wavered with embarrassed anger as he handed Wade his drink, never taking his glare off of his father.

“When you were gone, I had time to get out the photo albums.” Steve was known as a 'proud parent.' He was the parent who liked to brag about their child whenever he had the chance. If Peter got an A on a test, the whole Avengers team would hear about it. Steve didn't think of it as boasting, just pride. He always liked to reassure Peter that he was proud of him. Even if that meant breaking out the baby books. 

Peter placed his hand on the book and tugged on it, Steve didn't let go. Peter's face was getting redder by the second, “Pops, can you please not do this?”

“Awww but Petey! We were just about to get into the cliché naked baby in the tub pictures!” Wade protested and Peter shot him a glare, his brown eyes suddenly like bullets. 

“See, Wade wants to see them.” Steve pointed out innocently and Peter knew if he didn't cooperate, Steve would soon activate his dad voice. 

Peter turned to Tony for help, “Dad?” His voice cracked with desperation. Tony looked up from the martini he was sipping and didn't say anything for a few seconds. 

“You know,” Tony smacked his lips after taking a drink, “I think we should put away the baby books and get out Peter's own photography albums that he made himself.”

“Dad!” Peter cried, any hope that Tony might have helped him was now diminished. Crushed. Stepped on. Killed. Peter knew now that his whole family was out to get him, every single one of them are evil.

At the suggestion Steve brightened up and Wade let out an excited squeal. Of course they had to like the idea. That was just Peter's luck. 

“I'll go get them!” Steve got up from his spot but Peter was quicker to react. He dashed for the storage closet that he knew his parents kept them in at the very beginning of the hallway. He blocked the door with his body.

“No, no, absolutely not!” Peter knew he had a very slim chance of actually winning this battle. Steve could easily pick him up and move his smaller son. Peter thought of his next move before his Pops even took two more steps away from the couch. He opened the closet and shuffled through it, finding as many photo albums as he could and holding them all in his arms. Peter then climbing up the wall and stuck himself to the living room ceiling, it was a rule worth breaking.

“Peter, get down from there!” Steve chided, placing his hands on his hips and stared up at his son. Peter glanced at his Pops, then at his dad, and lastly at Wade who was snorting with laughter. 

“Not until you promise not to show Wade my pictures!” Peter was really protective of the pictures he took. He first got into photography when he was young, and his parents decided to keep any photo he took. Even the ones he took with his JuniourSnap500, a kiddie camera. It was an expensive one, but still a kiddie camera. Peter didn't want anyone to see the pictures he took as a kid, or even as a young teen. He was too embarrassed. Now that Peter was older, all he could see in his photos were mistakes, bad angles, the wrong filter. No, Peter did not want anyone to see these. Especially not Wade. 

Steve huffed in response, “Tony, get the broom.” Tony got up with a groan and retrieved the broom from the kitchen. He handed it to Steve and Steve began poking Peter with it, “Come on Peter, get down!”

“Aah- Pops- stop it!” Peter tried to shoo the broom away but it was proven difficult because one arm was holding onto the albums while the other was holding onto the ceiling, “I don't want-” Peter's words stopped abruptly, catching in his throat once his eyes met Wade's. Wade, whose laughter had now died down, was staring at Peter in silence. And even thought Wade still had his mask on, Peter could feel his eyes watching him. Peter couldn't explain it in that moment, but something felt off about Wade. Just a few minutes ago he was busting his gut with laughter but now he was dead silent. Peter couldn't put his finger on it, but to him, Wade seemed sad. That's all the convincing he needed. Peter snapped his attention back at the broom that was poking him.

“Alright alright you can have them!” Peter gave in and the broom stopped, “Here.” Peter dropped all the albums and Steve expertly caught them all. Every single one of them. He walked back over to Wade and Peter followed by crawling on the ceiling. He hung down by a web to watch over their shoulders. Steve began by explaining nearly every single picture to Wade and eventually Tony even came over to watch too. And when Steve accidentally skipped over a picture or two, Wade would make him go back. It was amazing how Steve could spend hours talking about Peter's photos, and how Wade actually listened. They went through nearly every album. 

“And Peter took this one when he was fourteen.” Steve pointed to a photo of all three of them. Peter was squished in between his two fathers, his arms wrapped around each of their necks and extended in front of him to take the picture. They were all smiling. Steve was about to turn the page but Wade stopped him

“Wait.” His voice was soft as he took the book from Steve. Wade gently touched the protective sleeve of the photo, oddly fascinated with this one picture. 

“You can take it out if you want.” Peter told him and Wade glanced back over his shoulder, Peter was still hanging from the ceiling. He smiled reassuringly at Wade as he took the picture out of the book and handed it to him. Wade held it by the corners, afraid to damage it. 

“Should we continue?” Steve wondered but before anyone else could speak up, Tony did.

“Isn't it getting kind of late?” That was Tony's polite way to tell Wade to get the hell out. Wade handed the book back to Steve and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his Deadpool suit, rocking back and fourth on his heels.

“I guess the Tin Man is right. Well, it's been a pleasure, thanks for the meal. Petey-Pie,” Wade turned to Peter, took his hand and kissed it, “Enchanté.” 

“You know that doesn't mean goodbye in French right?” Peter used a snarky comment to hide his slight blush.

“'Course I do. I'm fluent in French y'know.” Wade spoke absentmindedly as his head scanned around the room, “Hey is there another way out of here besides the elevator?”

Oh right, the elevator, Peter nearly forgot. 

“No.” Tony replied flatly, “The only other way out is through the window.” He pointed to one of the open windows. It was, of course, a lie. There was the fire escape in the very back of the hallway, but why would Tony tell Wade that?

_Oh no._ Peter thought to himself. _This isn't gonna end well._

Wade carelessly shrugged, “Good enough for me.” He made a break for the window, leaping out of it and went plummeting to the ground. 

“Wade!” Peter shouted and dashed for the window, he leaned over the edge and saw Wade falling. The merc saw Peter up above and waved to him. Peter couldn't help but laugh softly. He turned back to his dads, “I'm gonna make sure he's okay and walk him back to his place.” 

“Alright Peter.” Steve smiled kindly, giving Peter a nod of approval. Peter smiled back and him and leapt out the window. 

“Don't stay out too late!” Tony called after his son, sounding concerned for the first time tonight. But Peter was already gone by time Tony spoke, so he had no idea if Peter heard him or not. He sighed as Steve came to stand beside him, Tony was quick to put on his defense, “I was only kidding about the window thing! I didn't think Wade would actually jump!”

Steve only smirked in response. Tony didn't like that look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You called him Wade.” Steve answered, his eyes holding a mischievous glint. Tony quickly looked away.

“No I didn't. I called him Deadpool. He's Deadpool and that's all he'll ever be.” 

“Come on Tony, Wade wasn't that bad. You saw the way Peter acted around him. I haven't seen him like that since-”

“- since Gwen.” Tony interrupted, “Yeah I know. And that's why I don't like him, I mean, I never really liked Deadpool to begin with. But I especially don't like him now. Steve, he's gonna end up hurting Peter. The kid can't go through another heart break.”

Steve frowned. He would be lying if he said that he didn't share the same fear as Tony. Peter, while he liked to claim that his break up with Gwen was a mutual one, was a mess after it happened. He spent weeks locked up in his room, he stopped eating and sleeping. Peter was heart broken. And while Steve would never admit it, he was just as scared as Tony was.

“I know, Tony, I don't want Peter to get hurt either. But we have to trust him to make his own decisions. As much as I hate it, Peter's growing up.” 

Tony sighed and scrubbed his beard, “I'm gonna go down to the lab.” He began walking away from his husband. He needed to clear his head, and a trip down to his lab always did the trick. Tony paused in his steps and looked over his shoulder, although not directly at Steve, “You can come if you want. Bring your sketch book.”

Steve smiled at Tony's attempt to be caring. While it may not be apparent to others, Steve always knew when Tony was trying to be something other than a self centered ass. And right now, Steve could tell that Tony didn't want to be alone, otherwise he wouldn't have invited him down to the lab. Steve smiled and grabbed his sketch book and pencils, following his partner down to his work space. With one last glance out the living room window, Steve could only hope that both Peter and Wade were okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why be studying for exams when I can write about my gay babies?


	19. Chapter 18

{Are we back?}

[Almost.]

{How about now?}

[Nearly there, aaaaaaaannnnd we're back!]

Wade sat up with a groan, rubbing his head. The world was a bit fuzzy around the edges, and all the lights mushed into one. His entire body ached, but he assumed it would heal eventually. It wasn't until Wade's dazed eyes spotted Peter did he remember what happened. 

[We jumped from Stark tower.]

{Well, that's one thing off the bucket list.}

“Are you okay?” Peter asked once he realized Wade was moving again. Both of them were now propped up against the base of the tower, heads leaned back. 

“Yeah,” Wade grunted as he tried to shift his body, “I'm good. Just gotta wait till my bones heal up.” 

Peter laughed, but it was empty, “You're crazy Wade.” 

Wade echoed Peter's laugh, “Yeah, I'm fucking nuts.” Silence wrapped around them like a warm blanket. Soft, comfortable, and needed. It didn't take long for Wade to heal, in about twenty minutes or so they were both up and walking home. They decided to go by foot this time, it was much calmer. Wade glanced at Peter, he was just staring ahead seemingly in deep thought. The blanket of silence that was once around them became too heavy, “So..” Wade began, slightly awkward, “A heads up about your parents would have been nice.”

Peter cringed, “Yeah sorry 'bout that. I just...” Peter hesitated, running his fingers through his hair, “I didn't know how to tell you.” 

“How's this? 'Hey Wade, you sexy beast, just a warning, my parents are Captain America and IronMan.' And then I would be like 'Oh okay cool. Now lift your leg a little higher or we're never gonna pull off this position.'” Wade smirked in Peter's direction, waiting for a reaction that he knew would come. Under the street lights, Peter's cheeks and the tips of his ears turned bright pink. 

{If I could sigh out of cuteness then I totally would}

[I mean, you can use these things ** to indicate it.]

{Don't be fucking weird. We used that joke once already way back in like chapter 2 or something.}

Wade barely realized that his thought boxes were talking, he was learning to cancel them out the more he focused on Peter. 

“Do you ever not make sex jokes?” Peter complained, talking with his hands in dramatic positions to match his tone. It was quite captivating. 

“Don't you mean fondue jokes?” Wade held back his own laughter as he spoke, but his baby boy didn't feel the same joy he did. In fact, Peter looked the exact opposite from amused. He almost seemed pissed. 

{Scratch that, he _is_ pissed.}

[He's so cute when he's mad. Well, not like seriously mad at us, just this cute mad.]

Peter's glare didn't do his face justice. His eyebrows were narrowed and his nosed scrunched, and yet he still didn't seem mad to Wade. You know that feeling you get when you know you fucked up big time? Well Wade wasn't feeling that right now. He stumbled over a few steps after Peter shoved him and told him to shut up. The playful shove. Now Wade knew Petey wasn't mad. With a hearty chuckle, Wade regained his composure then made a move to scoop up Peter. Now he carried the smaller hero slumped over one of his shoulders. 

“Wade! Put me down!” Peter yelled and wiggled around in Wade's grip. But Wade knew if Peter really wanted to be let down, he could manage it himself. The kid had like super strength or something. 

{He does have super strength dumbass. You know that.}

[We know everything about Spiderman.]

Wade pretended not to hear his boxes. Granted, he did know everything about Spiderman. But Peter Parker was a different story. Wade found out tonight that there was a lot of stuff about Peter he had no clue about. But he was eager to find out, hence the increased attention in the family albums. Wade felt guilt stab at his chest like a needle puncturing his skin. It stung a tiny bit, and the wound was small, but extremely noticeable. The picture Wade had stolen seemed to burn within his pocket, with every step closer to the apartment, the burning sensation became more intense. Wade entered the complex, Peter still hanging over his shoulder but no longer struggling. With a climb up a few flights of stairs and a quick turn of his key, Peter and Wade now found themselves inside their apartment. Wade finally let Peter down. 

“What was that all about?” Peter asked as he brushed himself off. 

Wade shrugged, “I just felt like carrying you.” Peter gave him an odd look and Wade started to rock back and forth on his heels, deepening Peter's weirded out gaze. 

“You're acting weirder than usual.” Peter pointed out the obvious as if Wade didn't already know it.

[You gotta tell him.]

{Why is there this much build up? It's not even that big of a deal.}

[To add to the fluffy-ness that's about to come.] 

Wade exhaled loudly and prolonged his groan as he flopped himself on the couch next to Peter. He shoved his hand into his pocket and took out the picture, this whole time being careful not to wreck it. 

“I uh, I kinda took this from your house.” Wade admitted, mumbling as he spoke and handed the photo to Peter. Peter took it and studied it as Wade shrunk within himself. Back at Peter's house, Wade had slipped the photo of Peter and his two dads into the pocket of his Deadpool suit right after giving the album back to Steve. Wade was planning on giving it back, but just not so soon. He wanted to look at it some more. He found himself drawn to that specific picture. And he knew why too. 

[For God's sake don't tell Petey-Pie why.]

“Wade,” Peter began, his tone more confused than anything. Wade knew what question was coming, “Why did you take this picture?” Peter laughed at his own question, but Wade didn't find it funny.

{I'm in agreement with White for once, don't tell Peter. It's too embarrassing.}

[But then again, when don't we embarrass ourselves?]

{This time is different.}

“I uh..” Wade paused, fiddling with the cushion on the couch. 

[Don't do it.]

Wade shook his head, trying to rid it of his voices. He knew it would do no good, but just to have the hope of relief was better than nothing. It was confusing, at times, having so many voices telling you what to do. Wade's thought boxes would want him to do one thing, but then his gut would tell him to do another. Wade cleared his throat, but to no avail did words come out. He felt torn. Like right and wrong were playing tug-a-war in his stomach. And Wade's thought boxes were playing angel and devil in his mind. Except both of them always played the devil. 

{Seriously, bad idea.}

[You wanted to impress Peter tonight right? Well look where we are now.]

{You stole from his house.}

[From his photo album.]

{That's fucking weird.}

[Don't try to kid yourself, we're not normal and you know it. But Peter? He has this strange idea that we could be. That's why you shouldn't tell him.]

“Well what else am I suppose to do?” Wade talked aloud to himself, Peter politely ignoring him, “I can't exactly lie. It's too late for that.” 

“Wade.” Peter interrupted, drawing Wade's focus back on him, “You can tell me. It's not a big deal, honest.”

Wade sighed and kept his head down, “I just liked the picture, okay?” Even without lifting his head, Wade could tell Peter wasn't satisfied with his answer, “It's just, I like looking at it 'cause you look like a real family. And I mean, I don't think I've ever seen Tin man smile before so that's pretty special in itself.”

{You're rambling, wrap it up.}

“I guess I'm just...” Wade searched his brain for the right word to say, “..jealous. I think I'm jealous of your family in this picture. It makes me regret running away from May's house, knowing that I could have had what you have, in a sense, if I just stayed.” 

[That went a lot deeper than expected.]

{Is it too late to abort mission with a lame ass joke?}

Wade dared to glance up at Peter once he didn't say anything in return. But by the time Wade looked up, all he saw was Peter's hands reaching towards his face and the next thing he knew his mask was off. Peter had that look of concentration on his face, Wade knew he was studying his face. Like, Peter was studying the features of Wade's face. Some times male pronouns are hard. Anyway, Peter was looking at Wade's face, and Wade reminded himself not to flinch, but he did look away. Peter had this weird obsession with his eyes. 

{Eye kink maybe?}

[Not that kind of obsession...is an eye kink even a thing?]

Once Peter seemed to get his fill on Wade's face, he handed the picture back to Wade. Quickly scrounging up an explanation afterwards, “You can keep the photo if you want. Steve liked this one so much too that he made a copy and framed it.”

Wade stared down at his hands holding the photograph then looked up at Peter. He did this a few times before settling his stare on his baby boy and a smile split across his face, “Thanks sweetums.” Wade tucked the picture back into his pocket then added, “Are you hungry?”

“I guess so.” 

“Good, cause I got some leftover tacos in the fridge that I can't finish by myself.” Wade got up and bounded his way to the fridge, pulling out the day old tacos. 

{That taco thing was a lie right?}

[Of course, it's just nice to share with our Peter-Pot every once in a while.]

Wade walked back over to Peter who was sitting cross legged on the couch. He handed Peter a hard-shell piece of heaven and took his seat beside his angel. Wade took off the top piece of his Deadpool suit, taco stains were the hardest to get off, and Wade felt almost comfortable showing Peter his skin. Almost. Wade immediately started to devour his food, as always. The taste of stale Mexican goodness filled his mouth and made it water. The taco was so much better than the Shepard's pie they ate earlier tonight. There wasn't anything wrong with it in particular, but when Wade saw how excited Peter got over the dish, he expected more from it. But the Shepard's pie was as bland as Peter's sense of humour. Which is pretty bland according to Wade. There wasn't anything special about the pie, so Wade was left confused as to why Peter and even Tony got excited over it. Wade, however, had yet to learn that Peter had the blandest taste in food ever. And speaking of his baby boy, Wade realized midway through his taco that Peter wasn't eating. He was just staring at his food. 

“Baby boy?” Wade said and gulped down his food, “Something wrong?” 

Peter shook his head, his face turning red, “No uh- do you- can I...can I have a plate and fork?” Peter stuttered, that meant he was nervous. Wade stared in silence at Peter for a moment before getting up and getting him a plate and fork. Now Wade was especially confused, tacos were a hands on food. Why the hell would Peter need a plate and fork? Wade's question wasn't answered when he gave the plate and fork to Peter, he just set his taco down on the plate and continued to stare at it, fork clutched in his grasp.

“Peter, Pete, Petey? Haven't you ever had a taco before?” Wade asked, almost fearing the answer. 

“Y-yeah, I have.” Peter's answer was uncertain. Wade didn't think it was a complicated question, either he had a taco before or he didn't, “But not like this.” 

{What the hell is he talking about?}

[Is there more than one way to eat a taco?]

“Good question.” Wade nodded his head to his thought boxes then continued, “Is there another way to eat a taco?” 

Peter sighed, Wade sense a story coming on, “When I was little, Steve use to make tacos a lot. It was like, a special Friday night dinner or something. But uh...Pops, he would always break the shells by accident. I never knew the difference so I just thought broken shell tacos were actually how tacos looked like. It wasn't until it was taco day in school that I realized I've been eating tacos 'the wrong way.'”

{...}

[...]

With a silent mind, Wade busted out laughing. That was the most ridiculous yet cutest thing he'd ever heard. Wade thought he got his fill on Petey-Pie stories tonight, but this one took the cake. It made him want to hug and mush and squish his little baby boy in his arms. Peter was too adorable, Wade could barely handle it. As for Peter? He could barely handle Wade's laughter. He slapped his arm and proceeded to shout.

“Come on Wade! You're no better than the kids who use to make fun of me, and they were 6 years old!”

Wade wiped a tear away from his eye, “Sorry baby boy. Please, continue, how do you eat tacos then?”

Peter hesitated and Wade had this feeling of surprise swirling in his chest. It was an uneasy feeling. Usually it was Wade who was the self conscious one, the one who hated eating in front of other people. But now? Now it was rolls reversed. And Wade had no fucking clue on what to do. How the hell do you comfort someone? Wade could try from experience, but the feeling of comfort wasn't one that was familiar to him. Nonetheless he wanted to try. If not for Peter than for himself, the skill might come in handy one day. And yet, Wade was left speechless, he could produce nothing but a silent wheezing in the back of his throat as it strained to form words. Nothing came out. 

[We're hopeless.]

{We're failing him.}

“Just...” Peter continued to speak once he realized Wade was stuck in a silent trap, “Don't laugh, okay?” The words hit Wade harder than they were probably suppose to. It reminded Wade so much of himself. While he hated the stares of other people, Peter hated other people laughing at him. Maybe Peter understood him more than Wade thought. Wade's chested tightened and warmed at the same time. That simple request Peter made, just those few words, made Wade feel less alone. And that was a hard thing to accomplish. 

{Gag, that was cheesy.}

[Sometimes we really ruin the mood of things, don't we?]

{That's why we're called the comic relief.}

“I won't.” Wade said in response, and it felt like he was promising Peter the world. Because Wade knew how much those two words could mean to someone. He knew that, depending on the person it was coming from, it could mean the difference between light and dark. Wade may as well be thinking too much into this whole situation, but he silently vowed to himself that under no circumstance would he laugh. No way in hell. 

Peter proceeded to do the unimaginable, well, it was to Wade at least. His seemingly perfect baby boy took his fork and started to mash up his taco. Shell and all. Wade watched with horrid curiosity, but did not utter a sound. He would not laugh. It only took a few seconds for Peter to turn his taco into a pile of mixed vegetables, meat, and shell. Wade stared at the plate. 

“This is how I eat my tacos.” Peter admitted and Wade tore his gaze from the plate to look at Peter. Peter wouldn't look Wade in the eyes, he was being so shy about this and that's how Wade knew it meant a lot to Peter. 

{We need to think of something to say, fast.}

[Don't fuck up.]

Wade looked at Peter, then at the plate, then got an idea, “You know, the way you eat tacos is actually pretty cool.” 

{The fuck?}

[Where are we going with this?]

Peter looked just as shocked as Wade's thought boxes were. But Wade? He had a plan. A hella cute one too. Wade was about to get fluffy all up in here. 

“It is?” Peter managed to ask in his bafflement. 

“Yeah, watch.” Wade leaned over and took a taco shell piece from Peter's plate. He scooped up some of the taco filling onto the chip and then sloppily shoved it into Peter's mouth. Peter had to catch some of the filling that fell off, but overall Wade was pretty happy with the results.

“What was so cool about that, exactly?” Peter wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gulping down his messy bite. 

“We can feed each other. We can't feed each other tacos the way I eat 'em. This way we can be adorable and eat my favourite food.” After Wade finished his explanation, he opened his mouth and waited. Peter made no further movements. He paused mid swipe, his hand pressed against one corner of his mouth before dropping back into his lap.

“Wait are you serious?” Peter almost laughed in disbelief. 

Wade pouted, “Of course I am sweetums. Now feed me.”

“Wade I'm not going to-”

“Feed me.”

“Wade, no-” 

“Feed me.”

“Wade-”

“Feeeeeeeeeeeeeed me!” Wade added some whine to his voice, just for that extra oomph. It was proven effective because afterwards, Peter gave in. Not without a groan and a complaint though.

“You're such a baby.” Peter picked up a discarded shell piece and shoved it into Wade's mouth. It was not at all romantic or adorable like Wade envisioned, but he couldn't imagine it in any other way. Failing to be a cutesy couple, it fit them. Maybe that could be their thing. Wade was much too brute to try and do sweet things, and Peter much to awkward. And yet, they fit together somehow. 

“See? Wasn't that fun?” Wade grinned and Peter rolled his eyes, both actions were done with amusement. 

Peter chuckled softly, more to himself than anyone else, “Thanks Wade.” It wasn't an answer that went with the question, but he knew what Peter meant. Wade's grinned transitioned into a soft smile, maybe he was better at this comforting thing than he originally thought. Wade could see his name in Vegas, 'Wade Wilson, former mercenary, world famous therapist.' 

{That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.}

[Therapist don't become famous in Vegas]

“Nonsense, everyone becomes famous in Vegas!” Wade protested and Peter laughed, “Well I'm glad you find this funny.” 

“You're the weirdest man I've ever met.” Peter shook his head, a smile still decorating his otherwise expressionless face. Peter got off of the couch with a grunt of slight effort, stretching the long of his spine and his arms way above his head. Wade's favourite part was that when Peter stretched like that, his ass stuck out.

{It would be so easy to just grab.}

Wade didn't even need to hear what is other thought box would have to say, he was already reaching out towards Peter's perfect little buns. Wade's finger tips never got more than an inch away from Peter's butt, so close yet so far. Peter swung his arm around and easily caught Wade's wrist in his grip. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Peter turned around to confront him, his hand still holding onto Wade's. Wade didn't answer, only studied the situation. Both their masks were off, Peter was holding on tight to him, might as well give it a shot. Wade pulled his arm back and Peter came forward. He landed clumsily on Wade's bare chest and their heads clonked together. The two of them groaned. 

“Hm, that was not what I wanted to happen.” Wade stared puzzlingly into the face of Peter, his plan should have work. Maybe Wade would have to kiss him the old fashion way. But he had no time to, Peter had started to laugh, their (probably) bruised foreheads pressed together. 

“What the hell was that?” Peter asked, his laughter now dying down. 

“Well I wanted to pull you into a kiss since you at least let me touch that part of your body. Along with some others down under if ya know-” Peter's hand was slapped over Wade's mouth before he could finish. 

“I know what you mean.” Peter assured, his eyes locking with Wade's.

{He's doing the eye thing again.}

[Maybe an eye kink is a thing.]

But Peter's eyes soon slipped from Wade's and dropped to his hand that was pressed against Wade's mouth. His gaze then slide from his hand to Wade's cheek, then neck. 

{The fucker's staring at us.}

Wade's stomach prickled with a burning sensation, he wasn't sure if it was from the hostility of his thought box or from Peter's eyes. This was what Wade meant earlier by him almost feeling comfortable around Peter. It was fine up until now, Wade had no problem, but Peter's eyes had a nasty habit to linger. It's one thing showing your skin to someone else, it's another thing to be stared at. 

“Do they hurt?” Peter's soft voice drew Wade's attention back to him. Peter, now sitting up on Wade's stomach, had his hand on Wade's chest. Just now did Wade feel Peter's hand running along his skin, feeling every crevice of his scars. 

{No, no. Nononononono. He did not just ask that.}

[Why does this conversation happen in every god damn SpideyPool fanfiction?]

Wade propped himself up on his elbows, he felt his face go blank as his mind buzzed. Wade didn't have the capacity anymore to make words come out of his mouth. His chest tightened wherever Peter's hands touched him. His throat closed yet his mouth stayed open. Wade's mind was telling him one thing yet his body was doing the complete opposite. Stay calm. Speak. Tell him. Don't be scare. But Wade was in fact terrified, speechless, and anything but calm. 

[Of course it hurts.]

{Every fucking day.}

Normally, when it comes to his appearance, Wade immediately turns hostile. It's a nasty habit of his. Rage often filled the merc and Wade never had a reason to contain it. He was never scared of hurting anyone. But now? Now Wade had Peter. He had someone to protect. A reason to be a better person. A reason to live. Wade was never use to having those things, he never thought the day would come where he did have them. But, by some miracle, Wade did have those things. All of them, in just one person. Wade knew he couldn't be as hostile with Peter as he was before, he knew that he couldn't hurt Peter. He wouldn't. 

“Yeah.” Wade breathed just when Peter looked like he was about to take back his question, “They do.” The shock spread across Peter's face in a quick second, and then was gone. Peter didn't often lose his composure, and that was a characteristic Wade was envious of, “They hurt like hell.”

“Oh.” Peter looked down and Wade could tell that that wasn't the answer he was hoping for, “Do they hurt when people touch them?”

“Yeah.” Wade didn't hesitate to answer this time, but right after he wish he had. Peter stopped touching him, he got off of Wade's chest completely. Peter's expression immediately turned apologetic.

[He's pitying us.]

The voice seemed to burn a little hotter in Wade's mind, searing the statement into his brain. 

“You don't have to look at me like that.” Wade spoke flatly and his eyes narrowed. It wasn't anger that blistered inside him, but a feeling much like it. It was like an itch you couldn't scratch. Like a blanket that no matter how much you pulled down or stretched, it was too small. And eventually, you just end up kicking the blanket off in frustration and only then are you relieved. Well, relieved and cold. 

“Sorry.” Peter rubbed his arm, standing awkwardly in the center of the living room. He wouldn't sit back down beside Wade, and that explained the knotting feeling in his stomach. 

{Don't let him do this to you.}

“You don't have to be so awkward about it either.” Wade felt himself getting more defensive. It's what he does best. But Wade so often regrets it, especially once he saw Peter flinch. 

“Sorry.” 

[This isn't good.]

{No really? I always thought short, shy responses were a sign of a healthy relationship.}

Wade groaned, both at Peter and his thought boxes, “Geez Petey, you apologize too much. And that's coming from a Canadian.”

{Shout out to Saskatchewan!} 

A small chuckle escaped from Peter's lips and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. A few strands of stray hair hung in front of his face and Wade fought back the need to run his fingers through his baby boy's beautiful brown locks. Making Peter's hair stick up in tuffs was, after all, one of Wade's favourite activities. Wade pulled himself off the couch and went to stand in front of Peter. He looked down at the shorter hero and shoved his hands in his hair. 

[Soft as always.]

{Like a cloud of tangled silk.}

Peter smiled. 

“You don't have to worry about me baby boy, I'm use to the pain.” Wade meant this to be reassuring. His intentions were often there, but how words sounded in Wade's head and how they came out were two different things. 

Peter's smile faded, his face darkened, “Nobody gets use to pain.” 

{Why does he always catch onto our lies?}

[Why do we let him?]

Peter looked up at Wade and instantaneously Wade melted into the doe eyes. God he felt so vulnerable when Peter looked at him like that. And if there was one thing Deadpool wasn't, it was vulnerable.

[I keep trying to tell you that this kid makes us weak. We're becoming less like Deadpool and more like Wade Wilson every day.]

{Are they not the same person?}

[No, one of them isn't a person at all.]

“I don't wanna hurt you Wade.” Peter's voice silenced all the rest in Wade's head. He dropped his hands from Peter's hair down his face, neck, and rested them on his shoulders. Wade pulled Peter into a hug, inhaling at the sharp sensation of having someone against his bare skin. But Wade didn't mind, the need to hug his Spidey overcame the need to hide himself. What Peter just said, Wade wanted to remember it forever. He wanted to hear it again and again. Nobody has ever told Wade that they didn't want to hurt him. Nobody has ever not wanted to hurt Wade, not even Wade himself. Deadpool and pain was a package deal. But the cute delivery boy was an added bonus.

“You don't hurt me, Pete.” Wade's voice was just above a whisper, “Please don't be afraid to touch me.”

{My dick joke sense is tingling.} 

Wade felt the vibrations of Peter's laughter against his chest, “I swear to god Wade if you ruin this moment by making a sexual joke I'm gonna find a way to kill you.”

Wade erupted in hearty laughter and kissed the top of Peter's head tenderly, “You know me so well baby boy.” 

“Um, thanks for tonight Wade.” Peter said after a moment of silence passed, “I mean, I know my parents aren't easy but-”

Wade shushed Peter by pulling him out of the embrace and grinning, “Don't worry Spidey-widey, Tin Man will warm up to me eventually. Nobody is able to resist the Deadpool charm. Take yourself as an example.” The evening wouldn't be complete without Peter's face pulling into that unamused expression, but Wade knew he secretly loved it. 

“Speaking of my dads,” Peter began but Wade interrupted yet again, already knowing what Peter would say.

“You need to get home before they start to worry. Now putter along young spider.” Wade turned Peter around and shoved him towards the window, slapping his ass as he stumbled forward.

{I knew we'd get that ass sooner or later.}

[Damn straight.]

“I hate you Wade.” Peter lied and opened the window, perching on the sill. 

“You love me.” Wade couldn't wipe the goofy grin off his face as him and Peter bid their goodbyes to each other, promising that they'll meet up tomorrow. Wade watched Spiderman swing away, and the warm feeling in his chest sunk once he was alone. Well, almost alone. Wade would always have unwanted company.

[We love him, don't we?]

Wade didn't need to answer the question, they all knew the answer. 

{Are we gonna tell him?}

“And freak Peter out? No way.” What Wade and Peter had now was something special, and Wade didn't want to ruin it. Wade knew that he didn't deserve him, and yet Peter stuck around anyway.

[Good idea, don't tell him. No one wants a love confession from Deadpool anyway. ]

That was one thing Wade would always agree with his thought boxes on. He was unlovable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Captain, My Captain. 
> 
> Some fluff to prepare y'alls for what's about to happen.


	20. Chapter 19

Peter was at work when he heard the news. He had been shredding old newspapers from yesterday and so far that was the most exciting thing about his day. There was a flat screen TV attached to the wall and hung just above Peter's head. It only ever played one news station, and that of course was the one Jameson was on. That man loved to hear the sound of his own voice, even in every room. Peter never paid much mind to the television, he expertly learned how to drown out Jameson's voice. But today, during one segment that thankfully didn't have his boss yelling about Spiderman in it, caught Peter's attention. 

“Sally Summer, with What's the Buzz at 8.” The news lady, Sally, did her classic introduction and her theme song played. Sally was tall, dark skinned, and always wore her curly black hair in a pony tail. She wore the same suits and ties that everyone else did at the news station, but for her it brought a certain kind of class, “Charles Cantos, age 27, was kidnapped November 17th. This has been the second kidnapping in the past three weeks and authorities are hot on the case. Reports are raising the question, are these kidnappings related? The victims are both men in their mid twenties to early thirties. Please, if you see any of these men,” Sally paused as two pictures appeared on the screen, both the faces of the victims, “Call the police immediately. This has been Sally Summers, and you have been buzzed.” 

Normally her ending line would have made him cringe, but Peter's mind was too busy swarming with thoughts. His first instinct was to call Wade.

“Spiderman a kidnapper!?” Now Jameson's voice rang through the news hall and a simultaneous groan echoed in the room. Jameson was now doing his report on the TV, so he wasn't in the office at the moment. Usually when Jameson comes on, the staff turns the TV down, but Peter wanted to hear this one, “He's already a town menace, who's to say he wouldn't go this far! You can hear more about this tomorrow in The Daily Bugle!” 

Peter rolled his eyes heavily and decided he didn't have time for this. Granted, his shift wasn't over for another half hour, but Peter had to run. By chance, another intern came and stood beside Peter. Piya was short, usually grouchy and despite being from India, she spoke with a rather fluent accent. She was the only other intern people liked to make fun of besides Peter. The teasing often refereed to the short and grouchy stereotype, which she made no effort to prove wrong.

“Piya, hey!” Peter spoke with a little extra enthusiasm, trying to sound friendly but just pissed her off instead, “I need you to cover for me.”

“Wha-” The young girl, maybe a little younger than Peter, was left dazed and confused as Peter shoved a pile of newspapers in her hands.

“Shred these for me, thanks!” Peter ran off before Piya could refuse. He didn't even stop when she called after him.

“Your shift isn't over Parker!” 

Peter ran through the news room, grabbing his jacket and bag from his desk and sprinted out the door. He hurried to put on his jacket and fumbled for his phone at the same time while avoiding pedestrians on the street. With only one arm in his sleeve, Peter's phone started to ring and he located it in the opposing pocket. It was Wade.

Peter answered, he needed no introduction, “Did you see the news?” 

“Yeah,” Wade sounded like he was running, “Can you believe that Jameson guy? You- uh- Spiderman would never do such a thing!” 

“Wade!” Peter finally got his other arm through the sleeve of his coat, running a bit more orderly now, “That's not what's important!” 

“I know I know, where are you now?” 

“I just got out of the Bugle, I'm heading home now. Meet me there in 10?”

“Already on my way.” Wade hung up after that and Peter shoved his phone in his bag. It took Peter a little longer to get to Stark Tower than usual, since he was travelling by foot instead of webs this time. When he arrived, Wade was already waiting in the main entrance. He was talking to one of the assistants. 

“Wade!” Peter called out and Deadpool turned around, he waved. Peter ran over to him and grabbed his wrist, “Sorry if he was bothering you Pepper.” Peter bid a brief greeting to her then dragged Wade away. 

“Who was the hot redhead?” Wade ran at the same speed as Peter, but he was looking back instead of ahead.

“Pepper, she's mainly Tony's assistant.” Peter quickly explained as they entered the back staircase of the building. It was suppose to be only used for fire escapes, but sometimes even Peter has to abuse the power that having his dad as the head of the building gave him. He was just taking them so Wade wouldn't have to use the elevator. 

“Doesn't Cap get jealous?” Wade went up the steps by the dozen, able to jump every third or fourth step in one leap. Peter started to crawl alone the walls and occasionally swing from the ceiling. Truth be told, running was Peter's least favourite mode of transportation. 

“He may not seem like the type, but Tony is loyal to a fault. Pops has nothing to worry about.” 

“Really? Cause I mean she is hot-”

“Should I be the one who's worried Wade?” Peter cut in harshly, opening the door for Wade to walk through. The door opened to the back of the hallway that contained both Peter's and his dads' rooms, the bathroom, and a closet. This staircase was just a back exit. 

“Aw Petey-Pie, you know I only got eyes for your ass.” Wade assured, now speed-walking to keep up with Peter who was (somewhat) angrily walking in front of him. Peter wasn't worried about Pepper nor Wade, he was just getting impatient. Now wasn't the time to talk about this. There was just another kidnapping and Peter knew that those two people who were kidnapped weren't just coincidences. They were connected, he was sure of that. 

“Peter? Is that you?” Tony's voice rang from down the hall and Peter groaned while pausing in the doorway of his bedroom, Wade right on his tail. They didn't have time for this.

“Yeah it's me dad!” Peter shouted back and moved aside, shoving Wade into his room before he could say something to Tony. 

“Good, c'mere! Someone's here to see you!” At Tony's statement, Peter exchanged a confused look with Wade. He never had visitors, and if he did, it was always Wade glued to the outside window and waving in. But Wade was here with Peter, so who else could it be? 

“I'll be right back.” Peter half whispered half mutter to Wade before jogging down the hall and paused in the entrance. From that point, Peter could see two figures sitting on the couch, “Hey dad, is this gonna be quick? Wade and I got stuff to do.” Tony got up from the couch, a coffee mug in his hand. Behind him, Bruce followed. Peter was shocked to see his uncle, “Oh, hey uncle Bruce. What's up?”

“Peter, remember the drug you gave me to analyze?” Bruce asked and that's when it clicked in Peter's head. Oh right. A while back ago he had taken a sample from the vet's lab him and Wade had been investigating and he gave it to Bruce to study. He was better than Peter at that kind of stuff and now Peter guessed all the tests were complete. He glanced over his should to see if Wade was listening in. There was one more tiny detail about this drug testing thing. Peter never told Wade about it. And he wanted to keep it that way until necessary. There would be no telling how Wade would react if he ever found out. 

“Y-yeah,” Peter cleared his throat and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in attempt to look casual, “Yeah I remember.” 

“Well, you might wanna come see this.” At Bruce's words, Peter straightened up. Alarm twitched in every nerve of his body but he forced himself to stay calm. Peter hesitated to follow Bruce, knowing he needed to get back to Wade, but he found himself walking behind his uncle anyway, Tony followed. Bruce led them to a pristine white lab somewhere in the tower, Peter himself still doesn't know how many rooms there are. He barely even knew Bruce was experimenting on this drug in one of the Stark labs. Oh well, that plot hole won't leave too big of a bump. 

The three of them slipped on lab coats and masks before entering the lab. There were only a few workers in here, developing who knows what. Bruce took him to the very back room of the lab, containing just a few pieces of equipment and a rather large computer and monitor. Bruce sat down at the desk and pulled up some files on the computer. He spoke with a soft voice.

“These are the results of the lab tests, and this is a recording of the sample beneath a microscope.” Bruce pulled up a video and Peter leaned over his shoulder. He observed the video with a scientist's eye. He mentally noted each particle, every molecule and its shape and size. Peter's eyes scanned the video as he watched with full attention. The one thing that Peter was drawn to were these minuscule molecules, almost invisible even beneath a microscope, that kept shifting its form. As if it didn't know what it wanted to be. It couldn't make up its theoretical mind. Peter knew Tony noticed them too by the grunt of curiosity he let out behind him.

“Uncle Bruce,” Peter decided he would be the one to ask, “What are those?” Peter pointed to the mix match molecules. 

“That's the thing,” Bruce began, turning in his chair to face Tony and Peter, “I don't know. And it seems like the molecules themselves don't know either. I can't pin point what type they are. They just constantly...change.” Bruce took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was clear that this drug sample testing gave him a lot of stress. He was just as curious as Peter had been, “But that's not the weirdest part.” Bruce continued, getting up from his chair and striding over to the table where multiple samples of the drug now laid in test tubes. Bruce pulled one from the pile, “I was able to replicate the drug from the sample you gave me Peter, and I did some testing. The results were,” Bruce paused, searching for the right word to say, “uncanny.” With that, he popped the cork of the test tube off and swirly the liquid around, “Watch this.” Bruce tipped the vile and let a drop of the drug fall onto his hand. Peter sucked in a sharp breath at the unpredictable danger of Bruce's act. But to avail did Bruce looked hurt and Peter watched with amazed horror at the effect the drug had. The skin on Bruce's hand shifted, like, actually moved. And that patch of skin became horrible scarred. The sight was all too familiar. 

“That looks like...” Peter was breathless when he spoke, enable to complete his sentence. Tony did for him. 

“Deadpool.” Now Tony was just as involved in this whole scheme as Peter was. He was probably just as confused too. 

“Exactly.” Bruce confirmed, putting the cork back into the vile and setting it on the test tube racks, “Although the effect isn't permanent, it'll wear off in a few minutes. And I'm guessing the reason is because of the shifting molecules. So if they were somehow able to stop shifting-”

“The effect would be permanent.” This time Peter finished the sentence, the realization dawning on him and he wasn't able to keep silent about it. Confusion started to swarm his mind, questions filling his brain until there wasn't any room left for anything else. This drug was obviously different than what Wade was subjected to. That was a stress inducer, but this? This was something completely different. Modified. It was obvious to Peter now that the case they thought they closed was definitely not over, and much bigger than he anticipated.

“Once I realized this, I pulled up Wade's files in the S.H.I.E.L.D system.” Bruce explained as he walked back over to the computer, taking his seat and pulling up Deadpool's files. Peter's eyes avoided the screen, “You've been teaming up with Deadpool lately, right Peter?”

Peter scratched his head as he quickly glanced back at Tony. So the rest of the Avengers didn't know about his and Wade's, uh, complicated relationship yet. Peter turned back to his uncle and finally answered, “Um, yeah. Why?”

“Does he know anything about this drug? He might be able to help.” Bruce scrolled through the files aimlessly, probably trying to pick up on something he might have missed. Peter, on the other hand, was trying to control his panic. He could not get Wade involved yet, though Bruce did have a point. But it wasn't worth the risk. Not yet. 

“D-Doesn't his files tell you anything?” Peter quickly tried to get off the topic of Wade being present in this drug investigation,especially when he was just upstairs and could easily come down here to help. Thankfully Tony didn't comment on any of this.

“Normally they would.” Bruce said and tore his gaze from the screen to look at Peter. “We have everything about Deadpool on here. From his time spent as Wade in Weapon-X, department-K to-” 

“-to how many people he's killed.” Tony interrupted, drawing both Bruce's and Peter's attention to him. Tony was leaning against the wall that was only a few feet away, crossing his arms. Soft anger boiled in the pit of Peter's stomach as his throat tightened, he wanted to beg his dad to not ask the next question that he was about to ask, “And how many people is that, exactly, Bruce?”

“two-hundred and forty.” Bruce answered and Peter cringed, his jaw flexing. His hands balled into fist at his sides as Peter forced himself to keep his mouth shut, trying to remain as neutral as possible. 

“Huh, two-hundred and forty lives gone. Imagine that.” Tony spoke with mock surprise and for the first time in his life, Peter wanted to slap his dad. They didn't know shit about Wade. And frankly, with a brief glance at the computer screen, apparently Peter didn't either. There were records upon records on Deadpool, and a small part of Peter wanted to look at them all. But he refrained himself and Tony noticed it, “Why don't you take a minute to look at Deadpool's files squirt?” 

“No thanks. I'm good.” Peter's voice shook with anger for his father as he turned around abruptly. He knew that if he spent much longer down here, he would break and search through every one of Deadpool's records. Peter got the sense that he didn't want to see them, “I gotta get back upstairs now, thanks for the update Uncle Bruce.” Peter started to storm off, the pit of anger now rising to his chest. 

“Just remember,” Tony called after his son, his voice now growing softer, “The records will always be here if you change your mind.”

Peter paused in the doorway before exiting the lab, letting Tony's sentence linger in the air. It was hot, and the words were sticky, gluing themselves to the back of Peter's mind. He wouldn't be able to shake them off or ever get rid of them. They would saunter in his head, unable to be peeled off until the need to look at the files would be fulfilled. And despite Tony's soft tone, his words were harsh and cruel. Peter knew Tony was trying to protect him, and maybe he did need protection from Deadpool. But not from Wade. And they weren't the same person anymore, Peter knew it. Or at least, he convinced himself of it. Wade was different. He wasn't Deadpool. He wasn't a mercenary anymore. 

Without another word, Peter walked out of the lab. He took off his mask and hung up his lab coat. His shoes squeaked and echoed against the clean floor as he shoved his way past the other workers and ran back up the stairs. Bruce nor Tony followed him, and Peter was thankful for that. He quickly made his way back to his room and opened the door slowly, standing silently in the doorway. Wade was puttering around his room, picking up loose objects and putting away his clothes. Peter didn't know Wade could putter. But he did, he was. And as Peter watched Wade tidy up his room, not noticing him in the doorway, only one thought came over Peter's mind. There was no way this man killed 240 people. 

“Are you...cleaning?” Peter questioned and entered his room as if he never stopped, as if he didn't take a moment just now to watch Wade, as if nothing ever happened. Wade's head whipped around and the white eyes of his mask stared at Peter like a deer caught in headlights. He was startled. 

“Don't sneak up on me like that Pete!” Wade complained but had no aggression to his voice. He straightened up and continued folding one of Peter's shirts, speaking with pride, “And yes, I am cleaning. Your room was messier than our entire apartment.”

Peter's heart lurched

“O-Our apartment?” He questioned like he was some middle school boy. He knew what Wade meant, there was no need to get flustered. But then again, this is Peter Parker we're talking about. 

Wade raised one brow and furrowed the other, “Yeah? You know, the one you're renting but I'm living in? The one we've been hanging out in for like, months now? Our apartment?” Peter gave no reaction to this, “Hey Pete, you okay?” 

Peter shook his head, Tony's words still burned in the back of it.

_240 lives gone, imagine that._

_Just remember, the records will always be here if you change your mind._

No. He wasn't going to change his mind. 

“Um, yeah. I'm good.” Peter lied through his teeth and took a seat at his desk. Right, they had a mission to focus on, “Did you pin the locations?” He asked and looked up at the map hanging on the wall. It was a map of New York City. 

“Yup!” Wade popped the 'p' and walked over to stand behind Peter, leaning slightly on his chair, “One with the victim's home location and the other with the kidnapping location.” As Wade explained, Peter observed his map. Wade was telling the truth, he did pin the locations. A green pin for the kidnapped victim's home and a red pin for the location of the kidnapping itself. There were a total of four pins on the map, two greens, and two reds. Peter sighed in slight defeat after staring at the map. Two kidnappings in three weeks, and both victims were people from the list. The night that Peter and Wade supposedly closed the case of the vet's lab, Peter had taken and printed photos of the names of the people that were pinned to one of the cork boards. There were three there that night, one with animal testing results, one dedicated all to Wade and his accomplices, and the last had pictures and names of random people. They had no connection to Wade or Weapon-X as far as Peter could tell. But now? Now there was a connection, the kidnappings that happened. Both men were from this list. That couldn't just be a coincidence. 

Peter crossed off Charles’s Cantos name from the list and cursed beneath his breath, “Shit.”

“What's up baby boy?” Wade set his chin on top of Peter's head.

“I was hoping there was gonna be an order to this list, maybe like the kidnappers were going alphabetically, but I don't think so. Can you see any relation to the names Charles Cantos and Rick Rowdy at all?” Peter asked a pointless question and felt Wade shake his head. That's what he thought. 

“Maybe there will be a connection later on. Maybe we just don't see it yet?” Wade suggested but there was no hope behind his voice, “Hell, we don't even know if it is Weapon-X kidnapping these people. It could just be a crazy coincidence.”

“We can't exactly just wait for people to get kidnapped so we can notice a pattern.” Peter stated flatly, “People's lives might be at stake.” He buried his face in his hands. People's lives were being risked with every passing second that he didn't figure this whole thing out. Sometimes Uncle Ben's whole 'with great power comes great responsibility' saying gave Peter, well, Spiderman, a great deal of stress. 

“Hey,” Wade's voice had a whine of encouragement laced within it, “Don't look so glum chum. At least we got a start.” 

“Yeah.” Peter moped, turning his gaze purposelessly back on the map. He didn't know what he expected, nothing changed, “The only thing in common is that the kidnappings happened relatively close to each other.” 

“So maybe the third kidnapping will happen within the same area?” Wade suggested and Peter sat up, maybe Wade was onto something. Peter stood up, knocking Wade's chin off of his head as he leaned forward onto his desk and getting a closer look at the map. Peter glanced down at the list of names that was sprawled on his desk, then back up to the map.

“Who else lives in this location?” Peter question, looking over his shoulder at Wade. If there was one thing Wade knew, it was people. Even just random names, Wade somehow had the knowledge on who they were, their occupation, and where they lived. At first, this fact about Deadpool use to worry Peter because back then Wade was still a mercenary. If he knew the locations of random civilians, there was no telling what Wade would do to them. But now? Wade's knowledge on the general population became a tactful skill to their team, and Peter was more than grateful for it. 

“Lemme see the list.” Wade took the list from the desk and quickly scanned over it, “Owen Olig and Bret Baker.” Wade noted then added, “Damn, are all these people's names alliterations?” 

Peter ignored Wade's comment and took two green pins, “Where exactly to they live?” 

“Owen lives around here somewhere.” Wade pointed to the map and Peter placed the pin, “And Bret should live about three blocks away.” Peter placed the second pin on the map. The two of the took a step back and studied the map with the now added details. But something inside Peter told him that they were looking at this all wrong. 

“Hmm.” Peter hummed in concentration, “Hey Wade? Who would live in the next town over?” 

“Uhhh,” Wade took a moment to look at the list again, “Nick Norton, why?” 

Peter took a third green pin and placed it on the map, “Then that's where we're patrolling tonight.” Peter announced and set his hands on his hips, a new sense of determination washing over him. Peter could also feel Wade's confused stare on him.

“Why, exactly? Why not investigate in this town? The kidnappers are obviously here.” Wade titled his head with perplexity, not catching on to what Peter was hinting at. 

“Because think about it. The police are gonna be investigating all around here like a swarm of flies. It would make no sense to do three kidnappings all in the same town. So while close to the area, they'll probably move to the next town over while the authorities are busy here. It's the perfect distraction.” 

“Okay...” Wade still sounded sceptical as he took a seat on Peter's bed, “But how do we even know the kidnappers are gonna strike tonight?”

“We don't, technically. But there's a good chance if we look at the statistics. Rick was kidnapped about two weeks ago, Saturday night. And Charles was announced as kidnapped on the 17th , which was about three days ago. A person has to be gone for twenty four hours before pronounced missing. And it takes about four days for a kidnapping file to get reported and published. So really, Charles was missing for about a week and a half. That means there's only a few days, a week at most between the two kidnappings. Another kidnapping should be happening soon, and if my math is correct,” Peter paused and scribbled on a piece of paper, working out numbers from his head and into messy writing, “It's most likely to happen tonight if we use inductive reasoning.”

Wade blinked beneath his mask, “I'm gonna be honest, I only understood about half of that. But I trust ya Pete, so we'll go on patrol a town over tonight.” Wade gave a nod of approval, which Peter found oddly reassuring. It was something he didn't know he was seeking.

“I'll uh, I'll go get changed.” Peter spoke absentmindedly and grabbed his Spiderman suite from off the floor. He started to walk to the bathroom and only when he was there, he questioned why? He changed in front of Wade hundreds of times before, but he was only being shy about it now? It was too late to turn around and Peter started to come up with an explanation as to why he left for the bathroom. The obvious one would be that he just had to use it, but did Peter think of that right away? No, of course not. His brain came up with other unconvincing justifications first. He has a rash. He had a weird quirk about not getting changed in his room. That one was beyond stupid, but it was just how his brain worked. He tried to come up with a reason but sooner than he knew it, Peter was back in his room. Deadpool was on his bed, polishing one of his katanas. This sight sent panic into Peter, “What are you doing?”

Wade looked up, “I'm polishing my katanas, what does it look like I'm doing?”

“Why do you need those?!” Peter's voice came out a little harsher and a little louder than he would have liked. Peter sounded too hostile, and sure enough Wade noticed right away. He stood up from the bed, and with a quick twirl of his hand, he put his katana back in its sheath. Everything about Deadpool's stance was different, he was taller, broader, and seemed more balanced. And with the light from the streets coming in through the window and hitting Wade's back, it made his front that more darker, nearly engulfing him in shadows. 

“I'm not gonna kill anyone, Pete.” Wade held no reassurance to his voice. He spoke softly but his words hit hard. Peter nearly stumbled back at the impact. But what Wade said next hit Peter's chest even harder than the last blow, “Haven't you learned to trust me yet?”

What was the matter with him? 

Peter shook his head out from the daze he was in and took a step towards Wade, “You're right. I'm sorry. I-I do trust you Wade, I'm just- I'm just a little psyched out right now.” 

Wade's masked crinkled into a frown, lines of concern etched into the fabric.“Did something happen with Tin Man again?” 

Peter knotted his hair between his fingers, “Yeah, kinda.” Peter chuckled sadly as he spoke. Yeah, something definitely happen with Tony, with Bruce, with the drug test results. With everything. Peter had to wrap his head around two cases, two missions, that would eventually lead back to one other. And Peter had to do one of those two missions alone. Even as Spiderman, that wasn't possible. Peter needed Wade's input, but as of right now, protecting Wade's feelings seemed to take the priority. And he didn't understand why.

“Does my Spidey need a hug?” Deadpool raised his arms and held them open for Peter to enter, but Peter just laughed. 

“Your Spidey and my Deadpool need to get of our here if they ever want to make it to the next town.” Peter gave the signal that it was time to leave and turned to walk out of his room but quickly stopped. Wade wasn't following him. Peter turned back around and saw Wade with his hands cupped to his cheeks as he swayed from side to side. Wade was making an excited wheezing noise like he was trying to hold back from squealing, a huge grin formed beneath his mask. “Do I even want to know?” Peter asked, leaning against his door frame. 

“You said I was 'your Deadpool'.” Wade explained, giggling, “Oh Petey you're so possessive!” 

Peter quickly pulled his Spiderman mask down over his head to hide his reddening cheek and slight scowl. Well shit. He did technically say that. It was too late to deny it. 

“Well I was- you said- so I just-” Peter made a pathetic attempt at justifying himself. It was no use. With a defeated puff of breath, he turned on his heals and headed for the living room, “Let's just go!” This time Deadpool followed Spiderman, skipping merrily behind him.

“You love~ me!” Wade teased and Peter's cheeks only kept getting hotter. He really wished Wade would stop using that word, it kinda freaked him out. Okay, not kinda, it did freak him out. A lot. Peter would often question himself, did he love Wade? Or was he still too young to know what love is? What are the rules? Then Peter would realize he was crazy and shake the thoughts from his head. But what really freaked Peter about this whole thing was that he couldn't tell if Wade was joking. Did he want a confession? Or was it just Wade teasing him like always? Peter wasn't able to tell like he normally had the power too. Was this just a joke to Wade, or was he seriously accusing Peter of this? And what really deepened Peter's fear was the he didn't know what he wanted it to be. Did he hope it was a joke? Or did he hope Wade was being serious? Peter didn't know, and he hated that more than anything, “Uhhh Spidey-widey? You might wanna open the window before we try to crawl out.” Wade's voice drew Peter out of his head and back to the real world. Without realizing it, Peter found himself stuck onto the wall of windows in his living room. None of them were open, Peter was just hanging there like a spider in a web. Pun intended. 

“Right, I was gonna do that.” Peter useless defended himself. He hoped off from the windows and opened one, gesturing for Wade to jump out first, “You know the drill.”

“That I do baby boy.” Wade gave a click of his tongue and got a running start, leaping expertly out the window. Peter quickly followed him out and simultaneously shot one of his webs downwards and the other one up. He caught Wade with one of his webs as the other stuck to a building. Peter hauled Wade up into the air, swinging both him and Wade forward. Once Wade would fall back down again, Peter would shoot another web to swing him back up, and that's how they traveled. Believe it or not, Wade actually preferred this method over just hanging onto Peter directly. He claimed that it made him feel more like he was flying instead of just gliding and about to ram into buildings. It made Wade feel alive. And Peter would give anything for Wade to be able to feel that.

Wade let out a cheer into the night sky as he went soaring up, his arms outstretched like wings. Peter smiled to himself and readied another one of his webs for when Wade would fall. Peter would catch him.

Peter would always catch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew I would need math class in order to write a fanfic?


	21. Chapter 20

“That was amazing!” Wade cheered, still giddy with the excitement that web-slinging brought him. Through his Spiderman mask, Peter glared at Wade from his crouched position on the roof. Wade, on the other hand, was doing anything but sitting down. 

{Hey dingus, Spidey is looking at you.}

Wade twirled around and found that his yellow box was right, Spidey was looking at them, well, him. And he did not seem like a happy camper. 

“Wade!” Peter half whispered half shouted, “If we're on a stakeout, we have to be quiet!”

Wade allowed an impish grin to spread across his face, not that Peter could see it, but it was the thought that counted. Peter made a zipper motion across his face, telling Wade to shut up, and then pointed to the spot beside him, telling Wade to take a seat. Internally, Wade groaned and plopped himself beside his baby boy reluctantly.

“Spidey, we've been at this all night. It's almost three in the damn morning, I don't think Mr. Norton is gonna get kidnapped tonight.” Wade did his best not to complain all night, but for a mercenary who's use to enjoy getting the job done quickly and efficiently, this was taking forever. Wade did not have a lot of patience, especially since the kidnappers had a slight chance of being from Weapon-X.

[A slight chance?]

Okay, a big chance. A really big fucking chance. And Wade did not want to wait around for them to come. Him and Peter already had one close encounter months ago at that vet's lab, Wade didn't want another one. He didn't exactly feel like dying tonight. 

{That's a first.}

Well there was no doubt that, whoever it was showing up, would try to kill him and Peter. Or at the very least try to injure them. And obviously Wade had to protect his baby boy, but his energy was lacking tonight. 

“Wade.” 

“They just showed up, didn't they?” 

“What? No.”

[That would be too convenient.]

{This fanfiction isn't _that_ cheesy.}

“You wanna go get tacos? I want tacos.”

“Wade,” Peter continued sternly, “We can't risk going home. The moment we leave is the moment that Nick Norton will go missing. I'm gonna stay here for as long as it takes, if you wanna go home you can. But I'm not leaving.”

{Ugh, he's guilt tripping us.}

[That hot little bastard.]

Wade grunted with defeat and hung his legs over the side of the building they were perched on. This was not the fluffy romantic stakeout date that the last chapter was leading it up to be, and Wade was the utmost disappointed. The two of them sat in silence for another three quarters of an hour, Peter never taking his eyes off the building across the street. That was suppose to be where this Nick Norton guy lived, and according to their map, the kidnappings never happened too far away from the victims' homes. Wade, on the other hand, kept looking anywhere other than the building. Watching buildings were boring, but watching Spiderman wasn't. Wade was always able to appreciate Peter's determination. While the whole 'great power great responsibility' thing use to annoy him sometimes, he now found Peter's stubbornness rather appealing and hella attractive. Wade loved to observe the features of Peter's face, even with his mask on. It was just tight enough to bend and fold into the expressions Peter was making. Like now, for example, Wade could tell that Peter's eyes were squinted in concentration because of the thick fold in his mask right between his brow. Wade eyes traveled from Peter's face, down his neck, down his shoulders, and most importantly, down his stomach. 

{I fucking love spandex, man.}

[Especially on hotties like our very own sweetheart.]

{That kid has abs dude, like, the shit? He's hot as fuck.}

Wade chuckled quietly to himself, unable to disagree with his thoughts. He let his eyes linger a little too long on Peter's waist line before settling his gaze on Peter's legs. Damn. Peter's legs. Those had to be Wade's favourite parts of his body.

{We say that about every part of his body.}

[Please refrain from making a comment about his dick.]

But there was just something about Peter's legs that Wade loved more than the rest. Excluding Peter's meaty bits of course. 

[Fucking hell.]

They were long and slender, yet had so much muscle to them. They were flexible and to watch Peter run was mesmerizing. But, the most important thing about Peter's wonderfully toned legs was that they led to his ass. If there was a God above, he created the perfect ass and gave it to this boy. And if Wade believed in that kind of shit, he would thank the big man every single fucking day for Peter's ass. But, he didn't, so Wade just silently thanked Peter for possessing such beautiful cheeks. 

{Oh god, we're totally gonna get hard if we continue to stare.}

[We're hopeless.]

Maybe just a touch wouldn't hurt. A simple hand on Peter's thigh wouldn't do any damage right? Wade couldn't resist the temptation, he reached out slowly towards Peter's leg but nearly fell off the roof when his baby boy suddenly jumped up.

“Wade! Look!” Peter pointed across the street.

{Oh we're looking alright, just not at what he wants us to.}

Wade forced himself to look away and focus on what Peter was so ecstatic about. A car had pulled up to the apartment complex and out stepped four, rather large men all dressed in black.

{Because that's not suspicious at all.}

[Whelp, time to get out ye'old swords out and knock some heads.]

Wade reached for his katanas that were strapped to his back, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked at Peter questioningly. 

“Just wait.” Peter spoke without taking his eyes off the men who were now entering the building.

“If this was a sniper job, it would be much easier to take them out.” Wade grumbled and lowered his hands. He waited and watched for what Peter was watching for, except, Wade had no clue what that thing was, “Uh hey Spidey, the bad guys are gonna get to Nick before we do.”

“I know.” Peter hushed harshly, “We don't know what apartment Nick lives in, but these guys do. Wait for my signal.” 

Wade waited. Seconds later, a light flickered on the third floor of the complex, fifth apartment in. Peter was quick to react, “There!” He shouted and shot a web, swinging across the street and to the apartment quicker than Wade could blink.

[Fucking hell, go after him!]

Wade jumped from the three story high building and landed perfectly on his feet. Normally a jump like that would have broken anyone's bones, but Wade liked to consider himself a trained professional. He darted across the nearly abandoned street, chasing after Spiderman whom of which was already inside the building. What was with Peter and racing into the heart of danger?

{Remember when we use to do that?}

“Yeah, but we gave that up for Peter, we're heroes now.”

{Maybe heroes run into danger like this too?}

“Maybe so, but Peter should let us go first. We have the healing factor!” Wade argued, finally making it inside the lobby of the building. Even just barely getting through the doors, Wade could already tell it was an old building. The wallpaper was faded and peeling, the place reeked of stale urine. And if that alone didn't give away the ancient age of the building, the lead door to the elevator did. Wade took the stairs. 

Three flights later, Wade coursed along the third floor hallway and burst into the fifth room. Inside, the fight seemed to have already started, but now was at a stand still thanks to the panting merc in the doorway. Spiderman was standing on one side of the small living room, his body standing protectively over a passed out man. Wade assumed that to be Nick. There was a tear in Peter's suit on his bicep, a deep cut shone red against his pasty skin. 

Peter's hurt.

Wade felt this sudden rush of guilt. 

He arrived too late.

He allowed these men to hurt Peter.

That thought didn't settle well with Wade. His head shot towards the men that were standing on the other side of the room, ready for the fight to start again at any moment. One man had a gun in his hands, another had a metal bat and the third had a knife with a line of red on the tip. These were the men that hurt Peter.

{Kill.}

[Yeah, cause that won't screw up our relationship with Peter.]

{Kill them. Hurt them. Make them bleed.}

Wade scowled, his yellow thought box fueling the flame of rage in his chest. All of Wade's old instincts came rushing back to him. The need to pull every gun he had on him out of their pouches and shoot every last bullet. The need to unsheathe his katanas and go all Leonardo from the Ninja Turtles on their asses, except Wade would have the balls to actually cut some bitches. And, most frighteningly, Wade felt the need to kill. He was almost thirsty for it. He hasn't felt this way in a long time, months even, but now? Now killing these bastards was the only thing on his mind. 

“Wade Wilson.” The guy in the middle spoke, taking a second knife from a pouch attached to his leg, he twirled each knife in his hands, “You're just the man we wanted to see.” 

Wade flexed his fingers and cracked his neck before responding. Did he know these men personally? No. He didn't know their names, but he recognized their faces. Weapon-X agents, “Yeah, I've missed your guys' pretty little faces. Nice double chin by the way, get that from your mom?”

The man merely chuckled heartlessly in response, “I notice you haven't lost your sense of humour yet.”

“Yeah, that's one part of me that'll never die. Oh wait, that's all of me. So this fight is basically pointless.” Wade's voice was growing darker with every word he said, “So I suggest moving your fat asses along before I cave your skulls in and fuck the hole where your brain should be.” Wade dared to tear his stare from the men to take a quick glance at Peter. Peter had moved the passed out man and was now carrying him on his shoulder. Peter had to get Nick out of here. And Wade had to get Peter out of here. Spiderman started to slowly inch his way towards the door, towards Wade. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” The man on the left, the one with the gun, cocked it and pointed it at Spiderman. Spidey froze and Wade felt a low growl erupt in his throat. He slowly reached one of his hands towards the handle of his katana.

“What's this?” The man with the knives started to speak again. From now on we'll call him Hunter, “Is Deadpool worried over Spiderman? Don't tell me you two teamed up!” Hunter let out a gusty laugh before continuing with a much murkier tone, “Are you trying out the hero biz again Wade? Trying to follow in Spiderman's footsteps?” 

“Leave him out of this.” Wade threatened, his hand now gripping tightly onto one of his sword's handles but he did not unsheathe it, scared that if he did, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from slicing their heads off.

“We don't want any trouble.” Peter spoke for the first time since Wade arrived. 

“Neither do we.” Hunter raised his hands defenselessly, but the knives made him seem very defensive, “Now that Wilson's here, we don't need Nick. He's just a pawn anyway, a test subject. We're not here for him anymore.” All of the men now pointed their weapons at Wade, “We're here for you.” 

“You wanna fucking try that?” Wade threatened, ready to pull out his swords at any moment now.

“There's no need for that Willy.” 

{Uh-oh.}

[Fucker's about to get it now.]

“Don't call me that.” Wade glowered, he hated that nickname. He hated the man who gave him that nickname. The man who hit him, who abused him. The man who sold his own son to Department-K of Weapon-X. Wade wanted nothing to do with dad, not even a memory of a nickname he once gave him. Wade hated the bastard and was glad he was dead. 

“If you'll just come with us, we'll leave Nick alone, along with every other person on our list. We won't need them if we have you.” Hunter snickered, his yellowed teeth forming the most hideous smile Wade has ever seen, “And we'll leave Spiderman alone too. There's no need to get everyone involved.”

[Don't do it.]

{We can't go back.}

Wade had to admit, the offer was tempting, real tempting. If he went, he would be saving god knows how many people from being kidnapped, and he'd be protecting Peter. That's all that mattered to him. Peter was the only thing left Wade had to lose. But he couldn't go back. He could go back to that retched place. He couldn't go back to Weapon-X. 

“Wade.” The way Peter's voice shook made Wade's heart ache. It felt like his heart had tiny strings attached to it and all of them were being pulled in different directions. Cracking it. Breaking it. 

“Just come with the three of us, Wade.” Hunter opened his arms as if to greet him. But Wade just looked at the men in confusion as Hunter's words registered in his brain. 

_Come with the three of us._

[Weren't there four men that entered the building?]

{Where's the fourth?}

At that thought, Wade knew instantly and he let his mercenary skills take over. Within half a second, Wade pulled his katanas off of his back and while slashing them through the air, he spun around. And there was the fourth man, just like Wade expected him to be, right behind him. Now with two katana cuts right across his chest, but they weren't deep enough to kill, Wade made sure of that. With a swift kick of his leg, Wade sent man #4 flying back, hitting the hallway wall and cracking his head, knocking him out. Wade knew that at this move, the fight would immediately take place again, so he didn't hesitate to run towards Peter. Wade stood in front of him before any of the men could get to his baby boy.

“Nice try.” Wade falsely congratulated them, pointing his katanas in their direction, “But back the fuck off. You're not taking me, Nick, or Spiderman anywhere.” 

“Wade.” Peter whispered in Wade's ear from behind him, “Don't kill them.”

“I know baby boy.” Wade hushed back, his voice growing soft, “Get Mr. Norton outta here. I'll stall these motherfuckers.”

“I'll be back as soon as I can.” Peter assured and made a run for the door, Wade covered him as the men came charging. Wade took every bullet, every stab of the knife, every blow from the bat until he knew that Peter was officially out of the building. 

“Losing your touch Wilson?” Hunter growled as he plunged one of his knives into Wade's shoulder blade, Wade didn't flinch. And out of the corner of his eye, out through the window, he saw Peter running across the street with Nick's body slung over his shoulder, tucking him gently in a near by ally. Now it was fucking go time. 

“That's what you think.” Wade smirked and launched Hunter off of his back, slamming him into the nearest wall with a sword pressed to his throat. This position didn't last long because before Wade knew it, the two other men were jumping on him, “Fellas, I know you all want your piggy back rides, but please, one at a time.” With ease, Wade tossed both of the men off of him. Their weapons slipped from their hands and Wade didn't hesitate to put his own katanas away and pick up the bat and gun. While Fucker 1 and Fucker 2 were down, this gave Wade and Hunter some alone time to fight. 

Hunter was, unfortunately, quicker than Wade's reflexes. He threw one of his knives just as Wade finished picking up the bat and gun. It sunk directly into the side of his head, knocking Wade to the ground. Hunter, or Fucker 3, took this opportunity to wrestle Deadpool and keep him pinned to the ground. Hunter stabbed his other knife deep into Wade's chest then took the gun and fired three bullets. Two in Wade's left shoulder, one in his right. With a cry of both agony and determination, Wade raised his arms that felt as heavy as lead and grabbed onto Hunter's wrists. 

“That fucking hurt!” Wade shouted as he forcefully bent Hunter's wrists backwards until he heard a snap. Hunter howled in pain as Wade pushed the equally large man off of him and flung him into the wall where both his companions were passed out and groaning. 

{Kill them.}

[Remember Peter.]

{Protect Peter. Kill the shit heads.}

[Be reasonable.]

{Okay, it's reasonable to kill them quickly!}

Wade's breaths shook with hysteric rage, his blood burning in his veins. He took long, slow steps towards the three men, hovering over them. God, he forgot how thrilling this was. How much he loved being a mercenary. 

[But you love Peter more, don't you?]

Wade's breath hitched. Peter should be returning any moment now. He had to make his decision quick. 

{To kill, or not to kill. That is the question.}

Hunter groaned, he was regaining consciousness. 

[Decision. Now. Walk away.]

Hunter's groggy and ugly man voice drew Wade's attention away from his voices. Hunter spat blood to the side, “This isn't over Wilson! We'll get you some day! We'll bring you and Spiderman down!”

“Shut up!” Wade barked, finding it harder not to make Hunter's fat ugly ass into a nice kabob.

{Ouu, Barbecue}

Hunter chuckled darkly, knowing that he struck a nerve, “ Oh we're gonna get Spiderman alright! And we're gonna beat him and break him down! And, who knows, maybe even _touch_ him a little bit, cause boy that kid is nice.”

Wade lunged forward, gripping Hunter by the throat, unable to mask his scowl, “I said shut up you dirty dick! You won't! I'll never let you touch him so stay the fuck away!”

Despite his bluing face, Hunter still smiled, “It can't be avoided now Wilson. We're gonna make Spiderman just has hideous as you are.”

[Now he's done it.]

Wade stood up to his full height, that threat was the last straw. He took one of his katanas from its sheathe and did one quick slice, cutting all of their throats at once. 

“No. You won't.” Wade growled, strapping his katana back onto his back. 

{Permission to be woozy now?}

Wade hadn't realized it, but now he knew just how woozy he actually did feel. Not only from his many bleeding wounds, but also from what he just did. Oh god what did he just do? Spidey was gonna kill him! Wade stumble a few steps backwards, feeling sick. Never before had he felt this much guilt for killing someone. But then again, never before had he had a reason to care. 

Wade's head snapped towards the doorway once he heard shuffling coming from the hallway.

{Spidey?}

[No. The footsteps are too heavy.]

The realization washed over Wade quickly. It was Fucker #4. 

“Shit!” Wade had forgotten about that guy. He darted the short distance across the room and out into the hall where Fucker 4 was already up and running. Wade wanted to chase after him, but his feet wouldn't allow it. 

“Nice knowing ya Wilson!” Fucker's 4 voice was like tar, thick and heavy. And his footsteps pounded against the floor, shaking the whole building. He threw something over his shoulder at Wade, and Wade mistakenly caught it. The object was small like a stick of gum, but thick like a rock. And ticking. 

A bomb. 

So that what Fucker's 4 weapon was. 

[Dispose of it you idiot!]

But Wade couldn't move, not as he watched the man get away, running down the long hall. Wade wanted to run after him, to kill him before he got away, but something else caught his eye. Just as Fucker 4 turned the corner, he slammed another body into it. A much smaller one that slumped on the ground for a few seconds. 

{Peter!}

[The bomb, get rid of it now or we're gonna take this whole building and Peter out!}

Wade looked around for a quick solution. He couldn't throw the bomb down the hall, it would blow up and injure the rest of the people who lived here. He couldn't toss it out the window, too risky. He'd have to time it just right so that it would explode mid throw. Wade was running out of time. 

[The elevator!]

“What?” Wade hissed to himself.

[The elevator is made out of lead! It'll cushion the blow!]

Wade glanced at the elevator, at the thick lead doors. It was the best plan he could come up with. Pressing the button and waiting for the elevator would take too long, Wade needed to act now. With quick thinking, and a fuck lot of muscle, Wade forced the doors open by prying them. 

“Wade!” Peter's voice was still distant, Wade dared to glance to his side. Peter was now up and running towards him. 

{No!}

“Peter! Stay back! Get away from me!” Wade shouted, desperation lacing its way into his tone. He got the doors open and tossed the ticking time bomb into the elevator. But there was one problem, Wade couldn't get the doors closed. At least, not from the outside.

“Wade!?” Peter yelled again, this time questioning as he slowed his pace to a curious stop.

[Your hand.]

“What?” Wade didn't try hiding speaking to himself.

[Cut off your hand and throw it so we have something to grow back from. No way in hell we're leaving Peter behind now.]

Wade gave a curt nod of his head and quickly sliced off his hand, tossing it a long ways towards Peter. 

[Now get inside.]

From the corner of his eye, Wade saw Peter clumsily catch then drop his dismembered hand before he walked inside the elevator.

“Wade!? What are you doing!?” Peter's voice sounded much louder, much closer. With one last burst of strength, Wade started to close the elevator doors, “Wade!?” 

The last thing Wade saw was Peter running towards him before the bomb went off. 

The elevator doors closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. My hand slipped.


	22. Chapter 21

Peter panted as he finally let his his body drop to the ground of the alley. He slumped against the wall, exhausted, sore, and alone. Well, almost alone. Two bodies, one on each side of him, accompanied Peter on this early morning. And by early, he meant really early. Like, four in the morning early. But his company wasn't very talkative. One was passed out and the other, Peter hoped, would be regenerating and waking up at any moment now. With his head leaned back against the wall, Peter closed his eyes and tried not to focus on what had just happened. Moments ago, Wade threw himself in the elevator of the building across the street with what Peter could only guess was a small bomb. Considering the rumble of the building that came afterwards, Peter knew he wasn't too far off. But the lead doors of the ancient elevator had protected everyone from the blow of the bomb. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Peter clenched his jaw as the images of Wade flashed through his mind. The moment he was able to wrench the elevator doors open again, he almost which he hadn't. The once dull wallpaper was bright with crimson red, dripping from the highest corners where it was splattered. And even now Peter could still smell the putrid metallic stench of Wade's blood. Peter felt bile rise in his throat and he covered his mouth with his hand. He felt sick. His stomach was churning and he felt as if he'll puke. Peter forced himself to swallow it back down. He did not want to throw up in his Spiderman mask. And if Peter was able to keep it down when he was gathering up what scarce pieces of Wade's body remained, he should surely be able to refrain from vomiting now. Peter didn't find much in the elevator once the bomb went off, nor did he have much time to search. Between reassuring all the people that lived in the building that it was just a minor earthquake and the need to get back to Nick Norton to make sure he didn't wake up yet, Peter barely had any time to really search for Wade's body parts. Not that there would be many anyway. Apart from the hand Wade had thrown at him beforehand (pun not intended), Peter had found Wade's right foot and part of his calf. Peter had also found a little bit of Wade's hip and his left shoulder that had some remains of his neck attached to it. But that was all. No head. No middle. Barely anything. And now Peter had just finished arranging Wade's body parts in rough guesstimate positions on where they should be. But Wade had yet to regenerate anything. 

A groan came from the man on Peter's left, Nick. Peter opened his eyes and made sure his Spiderman mask was still in place. Resentfully, he forced himself to his feet so he could hover over Nick. 

“Mr. Norton?” Peter waved hand in front of the man's face as his eyes dully opened. With another groan, Nick Norton sat up, rubbing his head. 

“Where...what...” He spoke with dazed words as his green eyed gaze finally landed on Peter, “H-hey! You're Spiderman!”

Peter, well, Spiderman extended his hand for Nick to take. With a grunt of brief pain, he pulled the larger man onto his feet. Peter's arm was killing him. Before Wade arrived, the men had landed a few good blows on him. Cutting his arm and busting his lip. Peter could still feel the blood caked to it. 

“Mr. Norton, are you alright?” Spidey asked, stabling Nick once he started to stumble. 

“Y-Yeah.” Nick croaked, standing on his own now, “I think so.”

“Good, I need you to do something for me.” When Peter spoke, he made sure to be as clear as possible, “I need you to go to the police. There's three men in your building that tried to kidnap you tonight. Can you do that for me?” Peter studied Nick's expression as it went from confused, to horrified, to scared determination. Nick nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I- I can do that.” 

“Do you need me to come with you?” Peter hated himself for offering, he didn't, he couldn't leave Wade. Luckily, Nick shook his head. 

“N-No, I can manage.” Once Nick gave his reassurance and ran off to the police station, Peter allowed himself to fall back against the wall. Now it was just him and Wade. Peter had no idea if the men inside the building were still unconscious or even still in there. But he didn't see them come out. And from the quick glance he got before leaving, it looked like Wade beat them up pretty good. They shouldn't be going anywhere soon. 

Peter glanced Wade's way, no movement came from him. Well, from his parts. Was there something he was missing? Was there some kind of rule to Wade's healing factor? What if he couldn't regenerate from explosions? Peter's stomach felt sick at that thought. He didn't want to start to think about all the 'what ifs.' That would be the worse possible thing he could do right now. Peter did it anyway. 

What if Wade's healing factor wasn't strong enough this time? What if all he had left of Wade was just a few parts of him? What if he had gone back earlier? Would he have been able to save Wade? To stop him from getting in the elevator? Why the hell did Wade go in that elevator?!

A sob Peter didn't know he was holding in escaped from his lips. He slipped off his mask and bunched it up. He held it close to his mouth and cried into the fabric, his back hunched. Peter's body shook with every sob he let out, he wasn't use to crying this hard. He couldn't remember the last time he cried like this, and if ever, he didn't want to remember what caused it. Peter looked over at what should be Wade growing back many of his missing limbs. Nothing happened. 

“W-why...” Peter tried to speak, choking on a wail, “Why won't you grow back!?” He cried, shifting onto his knees and facing Wade's spread out body parts, “Grow back already! G-Grow back!” Peter shouted at nothing that could hear him. He picked up Wade's hand, spreading the fingers out by rubbing its palm. The little bit of the arm that was on Wade's hand still dripped blood, “Why did you throw this at me!?” Peter shouted at the hand as if it was Wade himself, “What do you want me to do!? I-” Peter sobbed and dropped the hand, his fist slamming on the ground. The pavement cracked. Peter allowed his next cry to rattle his chest, “I don't know what to do!"

Up in the distance, police sirens rang. Peter had to move, he didn't want to be seen just across the street from a crime scene. If there was one thing he knew, Spiderman and police men didn't always get along. Peter stood up on shaking legs and gathered Wade's body parts into a messy pile in his arms, trying not to let his snot drip on them. He fled from the alley, climbing up the side of the building and started to jump rooftops. Peter clutched what was left of Wade tightly to his chest, making sure not to drop any pieces. After nearly half an hour of running from roof to roof, Peter's vision started to blur. If it was from tears or exhaustion, he wasn't able to tell. But he needed to rest. He needed to stop. Peter dropped down from the roof and into the nearest alley way: they were some of Peter's favourite places to hide. Now that he was far from the crime scene, Peter was able to relax.

He dropped Wade's body parts and was about to rearrange them when he noticed something. Something that wasn't there before. An arm. Wade's arm. While Peter was running, the shoulder piece and the hand piece had attached together and grew Wade's left arm. Another sob slipped from Peter's lips, but this one was heavy with relief. So now he knew, Wade grew back much faster if the parts were touching. Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes, Wade would have made some inappropriate joke at his discovery. Peter took the next few minutes to try and get every piece of Wade touching another one. Like his foot to the hip piece that would hopefully sprout a leg, and the tips his fingers touching where Wade's thigh was going to grow back. Peter sat back once his work was done. 

His phone rang. 

With a heavy heart, Peter answered, “Hello?”

“Peter!” It was Steve's voice, “Peter where are you!?” He wasn't exactly yelling, but his voice was loud with concern. 

“I-” Peter's voice hitched as he looked around. Where the hell was he? He had no clue. But he couldn't tell his dads that. 

When he didn't answer, Steve grew more concerned, “Peter? Are you okay? Are you hurt!?”

“He's hurt!?” Peter could hear Tony's voice on the other side

“No,” Peter lied, and he didn't sound too convincing either, “I'm fine.”

“You don't sound fine.” Steve noted plainly, “Peter what happened?”

“Is he okay? Let me talk to him.” That was a woman's voice. Aunt May.

“Is Aunt May there?” Peter asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, she rushed over here the moment we called her.”

“You called her!?”

“Do you wanna talk to her?” Steve didn't wait for Peter to answer before he handed the phone to May.

“No Pops waiiiheeyyyy- hey Aunt May.” Peter tried to cover up almost telling his own Aunt that he didn't want to talk to her. Peter just didn't have the energy. He didn't have the energy to talk to anyone without nearly bursting back into tears. What he wouldn't give to be back home again. 

“Peter!” Now Aunt May was yelling, but out of worry rather than anger, “You better march your butt back here right now young man!”

Peter raked his fingers through his hair and gulped, swallowing the burning lump in his throat, “A-Aunt May.” That's all Peter managed to say before his voice cracked. At his weakness, May stopped shouting. 

“Peter, honey, what's wrong?” 

Peter bit down on his lip as he let tears fall from his eyes. So many things were wrong. The kidnappings. The drug testing. _Wade._ That was the answer Peter wanted to tell Aunt May, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. 

Peter heard the phone get passed around again and this time Tony's voice came through the strongest. And out of all of them, Tony sounded like he was the one on the verge of tears, “Peter...son...you don't have to tell me where you are or what you're doing. Just please, please tell me you're alright.” 

Peter smiled sadly to himself and brought his hand down from his hair and to his eyes. Out of everyone, Peter found himself wanting to hug Tony the most. After their little fight that they had yesterday, he just wanted to hug his dad. And now, Peter wasn't alright. He was far from it.

“Yeah,” Peter mustered as much happiness in his voice as he could managed, but it just came out sounding tired, “I'm alright dad.” He felt horrible for lying, but he needed to give some relief to his parents. 

“Thank god.” Peter heard Tony whisper into the phone before it was taken away from him and went back to Steve. 

“Peter, is Wade with you? Tell me where you guys are and we'll come get you, no questions asked.” Steve tried his best to sound reassuring, but Peter couldn't take much more. 

“I'll see you for supper.” Peter spoke softly, but Steve only raised the volume of his voice.

“Peter!? Peter don't you dare hang up! Pete-” 

Peter hung up and even turned off his phone so it wouldn't ring anymore. Weariness overcame him as it became a struggle to keep his eyes open. He took one last look at Wade. It was a little difficult to tell with half closed eyes, but Wade seemed to be growing back his body parts. The next step would be all his internal organs, muscles, and tissues. With big wounds like this, Wade healed himself from the outside in. Peter's faint smile faded as he started to nod off. He soon gave up the fight to stay awake, letting sleep consume his body. 

~~

Peter awoke with a jolt, realizing and cursing himself for falling asleep. He didn't know how long he was out for, but the winter's sun was now filtering through the alleyway and making its way into the sky. Peter quickly checked on Wade and, to his surprise, Wade's body was almost fully repaired. 

“W-Wade!” Peter crawled over to the man that was lying unconscious just a few feet away from him. Peter pulled Wade's head onto his lap. His face was bare, his chest was bare, his legs were bare. Peter should have guessed this would happen, clothes don't magically grow back like Wade does. Without giving it a second thought, Peter took the top off of his Spiderman suit and placed it around Wade's waist. He shivered. Fuck it was cold.

Peter's eyes scanned Wade's body. It was fully repaired, all his damaged parts grew back, but he wasn't moving. How long did it normally take for Wade to wake up? Peter felt his pass panic start to come back. Shouldn't Wade have woken up by now? Or at least started breathing again? Peter poked Wade's face. Nothing. He checked Wade's pulse. Something. At least Wade's heart was beating, but that only seemed to spark more panic within Peter's stomach. If Wade's heart was beating that meant he was alive, if he's alive he should be breathing. Why wasn't he breathing?

“Hey...” Peter hated the sound of his own voice, it sounded weepy. Weak. “Wade, wake up.”

No response. 

“Are you still hungry? I'll- I'll go get tacos without you.” Peter caressed Wade's face in his lap, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. Worried tears threatened to spill from his already red eyes, “This...this isn't funny Wade. Wake up.” Peter could hear his voice faltering, nearly shaking with every word he spoke. Despite the warming rays of the early sun hitting his back, he felt chilled to the bone. And the normally loud streets did nothing to drown out the sound of his thoughts. He could feel the pounding of his heart in his stomach, shaking his body like some sick drum beat. Peter felt as if an anchor attached itself to his heart and was weighing it down. Pulling it down. His chest squeezed with the tightness of it sinking. Peter sucked in a breath and when he released it, it too was shaky. His hands started to tremble around Wade's face as he started to cry quietly, tears slipping from his eyes like they never had a grip to begin with. “P-Please Wade, just- just wake up. Breathe. Heal faster. Do something.” Peter's bottom lip quivered and a sob slipped out, “Just don't leave me alone.”

At his words, Wade's mouth flickered with a small smile and at first Peter had to make sure he didn't imagine it. Then Wade made a noise, not a grunt or a groan like Peter was expecting, but something that sounded much lower and more dragged out. A snore. 

“W-wha...” Peter let his voice fade as Wade opened his eyes with heavy eyelids. He reached up and touched Peter's face. 

“Heh...Good Morning Sunshine.” Wade's mouth parted to reveal a smile. Peter's eyes furiously scanned Wade's face and body as if to make sure it was really him. Peter placed his hand over Wade's as he let the silence between them drag out. He leaned into Wade's touch then started to cry in his hand, keeping it pressed to his face. 

“You-You bastard!” Peter cried “You're a complete bastard!” 

“Aww baby boy-”

“Don't! Just-” Peter started to break down, “-Just don't! I thought you were gone! I didn't- I didn't know if you were gonna heal or not! But you were just fake sleeping!? How- How long were you sleeping!?”

“Pete, I honestly just woke up.” Wade shifted so he was almost sitting up, propping himself upwards with his free hand, “I was trying to be funny, I-I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Well you did!” Peter stood up suddenly, letting Wade's hand drop from his face. He couldn't stand to stay still any longer. He had to vent. He had to pace, “You scared the shit out of me! You just- you're just a stupid, inconsiderate, piece of shit that ran into an elevator with a fucking bomb in it to save a bunch of people!” Peter sucked in a heavy breath, burying his face in one of his hands, “You saved so many people, Wade.” 

“Peter...” Wade stood up, tying Spidey's shirt around his waist, but Peter wasn't facing him. 

“Y-You're a hero Wade, so I shouldn't feel mad about this.” Peter swallowed a hard lump, “I-I can't be upset about this but...but that damn elevator.” He swiped at the tears falling from his eyes, “Why did you have to get in that elevator!”

“Pete, I didn't think-”

“Of course you didn't think. You never think.” Peter was spitting useless insults, ones he didn't really mean, ones that had no heart to them, “You didn't see what I saw, Wade. You...” He hiccuped, his voice catching in his throat, “You were nothing more than a pool of blood and a couple of limbs.” Peter gritted his teeth, refusing to cry anymore. 

“Pete,” Wade's voice was unnaturally sympathetic, apologetic, “c'mon, don't be like that. You know I'll heal from anything. C'mere and give me a hug.”

Wade's words burned in Peter's ears. They made him angry, “How...” Peter's fists clenched at his sides, “How can you be so reckless!?” Only now did he turn around to face Wade, “Running into that god damn eleva-” Peter paused now that he got a full look at Wade. He was standing up with his arms outstretched to welcome Peter into a hug. Wade had the biggest grin Peter has ever seen plastered to his face and his eyes were shiny. But they were sad. Any anger, sorrow, or resent Peter felt before immediately vanished, “You're...you're crying.” Peter pointed out lamely. Nonetheless Wade seemed surprise by this news as he touched his wet eyes with his finger tips.

“O-Oh.” Wade quickly wiped his tears away but more kept coming. Wade stared at his hands as tears dripped onto them, “I uh, heh, umm.” Wade laughed nervously to himself and hunched his shoulders. He was shrinking into himself, trying to appear smaller which was something Deadpool rarely ever did, “Sh-shit.” Wade cursed with his voice barely above a whisper. 

Peter was hit with a brick of shame. Here he had been crying like some little kid about what had happened, about what he saw, about what Wade did. All when Wade was the one who made it happened, who endured what Peter saw, Wade was the one who had to do all of it. What right did Peter have to cry? Maybe everyone was right about him, sometimes he was nothing more than a stupid kid. He sure acted like it at least. Peter had to fix this. He closed the distance between him and Wade and stood barely an inch away from him. Peter reached up and lowered Wade's hands from his face, cupping Wade's cheeks in his own hands. Peter wiped Wade's tears away with his thumb and studied the older man's face. Shock resonated through it at first before Wade's walls came crumbling down as he leaned into Peter's touch. 

“I'm...” Peter hesitated, he temporarily forgot he was shit at apologizing, “Wade I- are you- gah.” Peter let his hands fall from Wade's face down to his chest, resting on his heartbeat. Peter closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Wade's beating heart. It was steady, firm, and permanent. It was the reassurance he needed. He pulled Wade into a tight hug, “I'm glad you're safe.” 

Wade trembled in Peter's embrace, freezing up for a few seconds before wrapping his giant arms around the small boy. Peter instantly felt Wade's warmth immerse him, forgetting the cool wind the circled them, forgetting the teasing heat of a sun that was barely there, forgetting everything. Wade's shoulders shook as he squeezed Peter tighter, pressing him closer to his scarred chest. 

“It-it was so small in there.” Wade confessed and bent down to bury his face in the crook of Peter's neck. Peter knew instantly what Wade was talking about. The elevator. 

“How long did you have to wait until the bomb went off?” Peter despised asking this question. He hated thinking that the bomb could have been an act of mercy for Wade when it was an act of dread for him. Thinking that something Peter feared and cried over was Wade's blissful escape. Wade had this horrible fear of small places, specifically elevators, so to escape that fear must have been a time of glory for him. A time he might even be fond of. That thought didn't settle well in Peter's stomach. 

“Three seconds.” Wade's answer was short, but meaningful. He was in there for just three seconds and it was enough to freak him out this much. Three seconds, that was enough time to breath in, breath out, and just barely look over your shoulder, “Th-three seconds.” Wade repeated, more directed at himself than anyone. Once Wade's legs started to shake, that's when Peter lowered himself and Wade to the ground, their hug never breaking. 

“I should have gotten there sooner.” Peter cursed at himself, unknowingly hugging Wade tighter. 

“Peter,” It was rare that Wade ever called Peter by his actual name, but when he did, Peter knew it would be important, “You always blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. Not everything is your responsibility.” 

“But if I just-”

“No, Pete.” Wade's voice grew stern as he back out of the hug and placed his hands on Peter's jaw, forcing him to look up, “If you got there any sooner the guy might have thrown the bomb at you and not me. You would have died.” 

“Yeah but-”

“There's no buts to it!” Wade snapped, not even adding a comment about butts afterwards, “You dying is not an option, okay!? If we ever have to do something that'll be life or death, I'm doing it! I'll come back. You won't.” 

Peter sighed, and as much as he hated to admit it, Wade had a point, “Okay fine, you're right.” Peter crossed his arms in an attempt to appear displeased, but ended up looking insecure. He didn't like the idea of Wade constantly throwing himself into danger, but who was he to talk? He didn't like to acknowledge it, but Peter knew he sometimes went head on into a fight without thinking it through. His parents liked to believe it was because he was so young and somewhat naive, but Peter knew better. He knew why he felt the responsibility to get involved in any fight he could, to take any moment to stand up for the little guy, to use his powers for good. After all, with great power come great responsibility right? And maybe now Wade was starting to feel like that, to feel the responsibility of a hero. Peter exhaled quietly before giving the credit where it was due, “You did a really good thing today Wade. You saved the people from an explosion and stopped three bad guys by yourself. I'm...I'm proud of you.” 

Wade's face froze for a moment, maybe to. Peter wasn't able to read it. He was just staring at him dead on, mouth parted slightly in silent words he wanted to say. The words Wade did end up saying didn't match his expression. “Hey, I couldn't have done it without- wait did you say three?” What started out as a sincere sounding statement turned into panic. Wade gripped onto Peter's shoulders tightly, his eyes widening to the point where the red veins were visible. 

“Y-yeah.” Peter stuttered, confused to why Wade was so worked up. He thought this was a good thing. 

“Shit!” Wade cursed loudly and dropped his grip. He got up from the ground and started to pace, thrashing around in anger and kicking the sides of the alley out of frustration. He did look a bit ridiculous doing this in nothing but a thin shirt tied around his waist, but he didn't seem to care, “Motherfucker! I- fuck! Damn it! We- I- I let the fourth get away!”

“Wade, it's not a big deal.” Peter tried to comfort the enraged merc, but did not approach him, “You stopped 3 out of the 4 of them, letting one slip away isn't that bad.”

“Yes it is! Yes it fucking is Peter!” Wade huffed, letting his shoulders rise and fall with massive pants, “We gotta go after him.” Wade's voice sounded gruff making that rash decision. This was where Peter had to step in.

“Wade, we're not going after him.” Peter spoke as sternly as he could and stood up to his full height, but even then he still fell short a few inches compared to Deadpool. Wade glared daggers in Peter's direction and if looks could kill, Peter would surely be dead.

“You don't understand Pete, we have to go after him! We can't let him get away!” Wade aimed to march out of the alley, but Peter blocked his way. No matter which way he turned, Peter made sure to be there first. He was not letting Wade get out. 

“He already got away Wade, there's nothing more we can do.”

“Move.” Wade spoke darkly, his head tilted down. But Peter detected a falter in his voice, he sounded pleading. With that in mind, Peter wasn't afraid to stand his ground, knowing Wade wouldn't do anything to hurt him. 

“Why is this so important Wade?” Peter's voice was no longer stern but rather rounded. He couldn't wrap his head around to why Wade needed to charge after the man who got away, it's been hours since then and they would have no chance in catching up. Plus he probably went back to his home base, charging in there would be an incredibly stupid thing for them to do. So maybe that's why Wade wanted to do it. 

“Because-!” Wade started out angry, but then his voice broke. He looked up at Peter and Wade held Peter's face in his hands, “-Because I can't lose you.”

“Wade what are you-” Peter had no time to finish his question. Wade had pulled him in and sloppily pressed their lips together in a desperate attempt. It was as if Wade thought this would be the last time they ever kissed. Peter, on the other hand, was confused as hell. And the moment Wade had kissed him, he let out a quiet hiss of pain. The kiss hurt. Oh right, he had a busted lip. At Peter's sign of pain, Wade immediately pulled back and studied his face. Only now did he realize the dried blood that was crusted to his bottom lip and the bruise that circled it. 

“You're hurt.” Wade stated the obvious like it was a piece of brand new and shocking information. Nonetheless, Wade's expression turn from desperation to concern as he finally got a look at all of Peter's injuries. There was, of course, the busted lip, there was a yellow bruise on his right cheek and a cut on his arm where the guy had caught him with the knife. But compared to what he was use to, these injuries were nothing more than like falling off your bike. But Wade, however, took them much too seriously. He scooped Peter up in one swift motion. 

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, his arms automatically holding onto Wade's neck as if on instinct. 

“I'm taking you home. Or do you need a hospital? We can go there instead.” Wade offered and Peter knew he was being serious. Wade hated hospitals, so Peter couldn't help but feel warmed at the fact that Wade was wiling to go to one just for him. On the contrary, Peter also knew Wade was over reacting. 

“Wade, it's just a few scrapes and bruises. I don't need a hospital.” Peter spoke flatly as Wade started to carry him in a random direct, Peter very much doubted that Wade knew where they were going. To random people in this area, they were just two half naked men wandering around. They were the weirdos on the street, people probably thought they were drunk. Everyone was starting to stare and Peter could sense Wade's discomfort as his grip tightened around his body.

“That's disgusting.” One man whispered. 

“I wonder what happened to the ugly one.” A woman said to her friend

“Must of been one crazy night.” 

Wade's shoulders hunched inwards and he hung his head low. Peter knew he was trying to block out all the voices. He had no idea what was going on in Wade's head or what his thought boxes were telling him, but Peter knew it couldn't be good. Wade picked up his pace a little bit, but it's hard to out run people in New York. No matter where they went, voices followed and grew louder.

“Put some pants on!” 

“Get a room!”

“You two should kiss!”

Peter frowned as Wade started to run, bolting through any crowd that crossed their path. Peter knew he had to do something to help. It's not like he could fight off anyone who looked at them, or shield Wade from everyone's eyes. So he did the next best thing. He took his Spiderman mask and put in on Wade, it's not like Peter was wearing it anyway. Wade nearly tripped as Peter slipped the mask on him, but he managed to keep his pace anyway. Wade glanced at him once the mask was on and a small smile formed beneath the mask in thanks. Peter smiled in return then rested his head against Wade's shoulder. Knowing he would never convince Wade to put him down, Peter figured he might as well enjoy the ride. 

“It's okay to sleep baby boy.” Wade soothed and Peter hadn't even realized he was dozing off until Wade pointed it out, “You had a long night.” 

Peter's smiled never faltered as he closed his eyes, letting sleep wash over his body. He listened to the constant beating of Wade's heart and his rhythmic footsteps pounding against the side walk, they seemed to drown out everything else and helped him fall asleep. Wade's bare arms and chest acted like a blanket to Peter, and although they weren't soft like one, Peter almost preferred it. He'd rather fall asleep in Wade's arm any day over falling asleep wrapped up in a blanket. And that's saying something because Peter loves his blankets, but he loved Wade's arms a little bit more. 

He loved Wade a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H*ck yeah he does!


	23. Chapter 22

[That was way too close.]

{They almost got a hold of Peter, do better next time.}

Wade only grunted in response to his thought boxes, earning him a strange but unquestioning look from Peter. Wade was trying his best to ignore his boxes, to ignore everything that just happened, to ignore what has been happening these past few weeks. Most recently, his and Spidey's missions have been to get to the future kidnapping victims before the kidnappers did and to stop them. Like in life, Wade and Peter didn't always win. Things happened like they didn't get there in time, or they guessed that the wrong person would get taken tonight. Peter, of course, always felt horrible about this, like it was his fault, his responsibility. But, thankfully, more often than not they would succeed in their mission. They would save the victim, web-up the bad guys, then let the police deal with them. Or at least, as far as Peter knew, that's what they did. But Wade knew better, he knew more than Peter did. There was usually always a fight involved; Peter was in charge of getting the innocent to safety, and Wade was in charge of fucking up the bad guys. Later, they would meet back up, Spidey would web-up the bad guys to make sure they wouldn't get away then go check on the victim to make sure he was okay. Wade would always wait with the bad guys until the police got there. That was always the plan, and that's as far as Peter's brilliant knowledge went. And his only mistake was that he trusted Wade alone with the bad guys, with the Weapon-X agents.

Wade never wanted to start killing again, but he felt like he had to, like it was his burden to kill. Every time after Peter left to go take care of the near-kidnapped people, Wade would take his katanas and well, you know the rest. And he always made sure that he would be the one meeting up with Peter rather than the other way around. So this way, Peter never saw the bodies. And tonight was no different. In fact, they were just walking back to their apartment now after just barely completing yet another successful mission. And Wade could still feel the tingling sensation on his hands that he got every time he cut a new throat. But the guilt was getting to him, and Wade wasn't use to it. He hated it. Deadpool never felt guilt or remorse for the dead, for the people he's killed. But now it felt like he was being eaten by it. It was the only thing on his mind day and night. Every time Wade looked at his own hands, all he could see was the blood that stained them. And that terrified him. The fact that he even felt guilt at all towards the men he was killing scared him to death. No matter how many times Wade scrubbed or washed his hands, the blood would always come back. He would always see the blood dripping from his hands for the rest of his life. How could someone not fear that?

When Wade did feel scared or felt bad for what he's done, for what he's doing, he would always remind himself as to why he's doing it. All of this, every life that he's taken, it was all for Peter. Wade never killed anyone who didn't deserve it, and the men from Weapon-X did deserve it. But this had nothing to do with petty revenge. It was all for Peter, every last drop of Wade's motivation to kill was because of his need to protect Peter. And ever since Fucker #4 escaped the first night they had saved someone from being taken, Wade's need to protect Peter became even stronger. Weapon-X now knew that Spiderman and Deadpool were working together. And that fact frightened Wade even more than the blood did. So he knew that no matter what, he had to keep Peter safe. Even if that meant lying and keeping secrets from his baby boy every single day. And for Peter's sake, Wade tried his best not to enjoy killing. He tried not to indulge in the familiar feeling of what it's like to take someone's life away, to have that power over someone's very being of existence. Most people don't understand it, but Wade does. He understood it and knew it all too well. It's like that feeling when you're doing something you love and it just feels right. And you know that it's something you were destined to do, that you want to do for the rest of your life. Well for Wade, he got that feeling every time he killed someone. Was this a bad thing? Yes, of course, he was fully aware of that. Was this a psychotic thing? Most definitely. But there's moments in your life where you just can't give a fuck. And that was Wade. The moments right before he sliced through someone's flesh, every voice in his head telling him not to went quiet and his mercenary instincts took control. So every time he killed those Weapon-X agents, all these old feelings and sensations would come rushing back to him and he loved it. But a new feeling came with killing now. A bittersweet one. It was the feeling of trust. Just the mere fact that he knew Peter trusted him brought him great joy. Nobody has ever trusted Wade, or rather, Deadpool. But Peter? He did. He trusted Wade with his life. And Wade, by killing the bad guys, felt like he was protecting Peter's life, therefore protecting Peter's trust.

[You know that's not how it works, right?]

{We're fucking insane, of course that's how it works.}

Wade dragged a hand over his masked face as he and Peter walked into their apartment, god sometimes he could just feel himself getting more and more psychotic every day.

“Wade?” Peter's voice was soft, but still made Wade jump. He was constantly on edge over the past few weeks, always scared that Peter found out what he has been doing. If Peter ever found out about his killings, there would be hell to pay, “Are you okay?”

“Mm hm.” Wade hummed thoughtlessly in response as he slipped off his mask and the shirt of his Deadpool costume. He could feel the fabric snag on the stickiness of the near dried blood coating his body. Wade hung his tongue out of his mouth as his partially soaked shirt hit the ground with a soggy flop , “Bleh, gross.”

“Is it bad?” Peter asked while taking off his own mask and shirt. Wade knew he was referring to his injuries rather than his shirt.

{Why on earth would Peter ask if your shirt his bad?}

[Well we just ran out of Tide To-Go Instant Stain Remover Pens and maybe Peter's worried about the stains in our costume.]

“Nah, I should be healed up in 10 minutes tops.” Wade confirmed and slipped off his pants, now sporting his Spiderman themed boxers. He bent down and picked up his shirt, combining his costume into one squishy ball, “I'm gonna go wash this, want me to throw in yours?”

“Yeah sure, just a sec.” Peter said and tossed his mask and shirt over to Wade. He was about to take off his pants too, but hesitated. And Wade had no idea if Peter's face had always been that red or just turned that shade, “I-I'm not- I'm not wearing any boxers.”

For the first time in what felt like a long time, Wade smiled, “I don't mind.”

Peter immediately became defensive, “I do!”

“Then how about this, I'm gonna go shower and you can join me. Then we'll be naked, together!”

{Yeah right, you really think he'll go for that idea?}

[It's worth a shot.]

“You wanna shower...together?” Peter seemed confused by the idea, but not repulsed. Wade counted that as a good sign.

“I'm not hearing a no.” He smirked and took a few steps closer to Peter, fighting off the want to pounce on him.

Peter's face flushed, “I-I mean it would save water.”

[Oh my god, he's working out the pros and cons.]

{That is too fucking cute.}

“Whatever floats your boat Honeybutt.” Wade wrapped an arm around Peter's waist, pulling him forward, “Is that a yes?”

Peter sighed but Wade caught the slight smile that tugged at his lips, “Hey, if it's for the environment how can I say no?”

Wade chuckled, “Your consent is always so awkward Petey-Pie, I love it.” On that note, he grabbed Peter's wrist and quickly dragged him to the bathroom. This was the most eager Wade has ever been to get into the shower. Normally it was a place for thinking, awful, dreadful thinking. But tonight? It was gonna be a place for a little something else.

Almost immediately after the door was shut, locked, and their suits quickly forgotten on the floor, Wade gave into the enticement of the situation and pushed Peter against the door. He watched his expression go from nervous, to shocked, to sensual. Their lips met with a desperation they both didn't know they were hiding. Peter's sweet taste contrasted the bitterness Wade was feeling. It filled his mouth and sinuses to the point where he forgot about everything else. He skipped the part where he'd lick Peter's lips, asking for entrance, and went immediately to shoving his tongue inside his baby boy's mouth, hungry for the sweetness he supplied. Wade wasn't able to control the smirk from spreading across his face, teething at Peter's lips until they were a nice shade of garnet pink, his hands finding their way up to feel the warmth of his stomach and then chest. Beneath his fingertips, Wade felt Peter's heart beating strongly. He could hear it over his own racing chest, each thump like a nearing drumbeat to his favourite song. Wade parted the kiss to trail down Peter's neck, placing his lips fondly over his pulse and feeling the heartbeat against his mouth. Wade took a moment of pause, letting the knowledge that Peter's heart was racing because of him. Each beat, every rhythm was because of his doing. This fact made Wade's chest tighten.

“Never stop beating.” He whispered against Peter's skin, letting his voice soak in, not allowing it to linger in the air.

When Peter spoke, he voice was strained and breathy. He was holding back, “What?”

Wade looked up at him, “I said time to start showering.” That lie didn't feel as sweet leaving his mouth.

The blush that crept across Peter's face only grew and Wade took his wrist and dragged him the short distance to the tub. They undressed each other, well, what was left of their clothing anyway. It wasn't the tear-away-too-eager-for-sex-holy-shit-touch-me-now kind of thing Wade was hoping for, but undressing his sweetums slowly was just as fun. When it was his turn to remove Peter's pants, Wade got on his knees and used his teeth, his eyes never breaking contact with his favourite brown ones. It was hard to force his smile down once he saw Peter cover his mouth with his hand, hiding laughter of his own. His flushed cheeks, ears, and fingertips gave away his embarrassment. After Peter stepped out of his pants, Wade made sure to grab him by his hips and plant a kiss on his pelvic bone before getting back on his feet and kissing his lips instead, grip still firm on Peter's slender -and might he add rather boney but extremely attractive- hips.

Peter had one arm hanging loosely off Wade's shoulder while the other reached behind him to turn on the tap. Wade leaned back, almost in a dip and almost tripping over the side of the tub in the process, he felt the beads of water spray his back before he pulled himself and Peter into the tub and closed the shower curtain. A window of privacy they didn't need, but added to the intimacy anyway, as if they were two teenage kids about to be caught. The thrill that it gave Wade was indescribable, but he loved it.

The water was hot.

But not hot enough.

Wade could feel his thought boxes creeping up on him, he felt the heat in his stomach start to pool and not in a 'I'm about to climax' kind of way that he was hopeful for, they didn't even start anything yet. This heat was different, it was that sickening feeling you get when the backseat of the car was too small and the heat was up much too high, but no matter how hard you pressed your forehead against the cool leather on the seat in front of you, it still felt like hell. The shower space in this bathroom was already small, but now there was two people in here, and the water wasn't hot enough to distract him. Wade knew he couldn't turn it up without burning Peter, but he didn't know how long he could last in here, the walls already seemed to be caving it.

For Wade showering was a time for thinking, awful, dreadful thinking. He felt that familiar swarm of thoughts start to fill his head. He needed silence.

Wade kissed to forget. He roughly pulled Peter near him and kissed his lips with unspoken violence. He pressed him against the shower's wall, restraining his wrists above his head. The shocked gasped barely had time to escape Peter's lips before Wade went in even deeper. Trying to get lost, he kissed a little rougher than normal. Peter brought silence. Peter brought distraction. Peter brought captivation. He made Wade's chest fuzzy and mind light instead of the other way around. Like a release from a headache. But there was a pit of guilt forming in his stomach. Wade hated how this once unfamiliar feeling was starting to be something he was easily recognizing, but was never accustomed to. He was using Peter, Wade knew it. He kissed like it. He was using him to stall his thought boxes, he was using him make himself feel better, he was just plain using him. But Peter also served as a constant reminder, a reminder of what Wade has been doing.

Killing.

He kissed harder, moving downwards to suck vigorously on Peter's neck, all in his favourite spots and his hip movements were getting hard to ignore (pun mcfucking intended). Wade was normally a biter, but like, a soft one if you know what I mean. He liked to call them 'love bites' (or Wade bites), sorta like a darker version of any hickey. But the point was he was never rough, or at least, never before. But tonight, right now, was different. There was another kind of avid controlling him. So maybe that's why Wade bit down harder than normal, and maybe that's why he did it again and again and again. His actions were just on repeat.

Bit down harder,

Hips moved faster,

Gripped tighter,

Bit down harder, hips moved faster, gripped tighter to the point where he was basically cutting off circulation to Peter's wrists, his blood finding other places to flow to (if ya get what I'm saying). It got to the point where Wade bit down so hard he tasted the faintest hint of copper. He pulled away as Peter yelped. He only pulled back far enough to see a few droplets of blood getting washed away by the water, his lips only centimeters away from Peter's irritated skin.

Shit.

That was Wade's only thought. He saw the blood near Peter's neck and it reminded him of an all too familiar sight. Anger heated his body more than the shower did. As Wade looked down, he saw Peter shaking, his anger now turning into misplaced desire. Maybe this shower wasn't the best idea, but Wade hit fuck it a long time ago. And, hopefully, he'd be fucking it shortly. Wade kissed the spot he bit before licking a trail up Peter's neck and to his ear, pausing for a moment to nibble on it before flicking his tongue and whispering, “Already so excited?”

Peter didn't respond and for a moment Wade doubted he even heard him, but the whine Peter was visibly restraining in his throat was answer enough. Wade released the grip he had on his wrists and immediately dropped to his knees on the tub's floor. He didn't hesitate to take Peter's dick into his mouth all at once. Peter, on the other hand, barely had time to cover his mouth to muffle his surprised groan. He bit down hard on his finger and hunched his back, placing his free hand on Wade's shoulder to steady himself. Wade was using that sucking technique from before and, from what he could tell, his baby boy was loving it.

There was nothing special about shower sex, or so Wade thought. It was just two people fucking with water beating down on their faces. All it did was make the ground more slippery, and that presented somewhat of a challenge. But he didn't know how Peter felt about all this. Maybe it was the addition of the water that helped him finish so quickly, or maybe Wade was just getting extremely good at not only blowjobs but the buildup to one (which is what he liked to think, feeding your ego a little bit never hurt anyome), but nonetheless any mess that Peter left behind got swept down the drain with a stream of water. Peter himself, however, was left hunched over and was gripping onto Wade for dear life, unable to support himself on his shaking knees. Wade stood up and held the trembling boy. His arms were welcoming but his smirk devious as he kissed the top of Peter's head. Now that his hair was soaked, it hung below his eyes and was almost touching his cheeks, Wade slicked his hair back with the water so he could stare at Peter's flushed face. Before he could add a snarky comment Peter, surprisingly, spoke first.

“Is it your turn?”

Wade blinked, “What?”

Peter's cheeks heated, “Do you want me to, you know...” He glanced down.

This was probably the most verbal they've ever been during sex. (Does this count as sex??? I dunno, whatever). They always just kinda went with the flow of things, doing whatever came (pun also intended) to mind. If one or the other didn't like it, they'd stop. Wade was a fan of talking dirty, or more so, he was a fan of embarrassed Peter. Peter hated dirty talk. He hated any kind of talk during these kinds of situations. He was much too awkward, which was understandable, so Wade kept the talking to a minimum. But now he decided to play with Peter.

He smirked, “Want you to what?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I'm not sure I do.” Wade was having too much fun with this.

“Look if you don't want me to then we should like, get washed up, or something?”

The realization washed over Wade.

Oh.

Peter thought they were done.

His smirk only grew as he turned Peter around, pressing him against the shower's wall now face first. His hand dug roughly into his tangled knots of hair as Wade tugged so Peter would be looking up. He leaned in close to his ear, pressing himself against his ass so Peter would get the idea, “We're not finished yet.” Wade's voice wasn't quite a whisper, but close to.

“W-What? But I already-”

“I know.” Wade licked his lips, leaning in further so he could kiss Peter, “But we're just getting started.”  
~  
{We interrupt your program to answer a few of your questions.}

[Did we just cut off yet another sex scene before they got to the butt fucking? Yes. Yes we did.]

{Did Peter and Wade actually have steamy hot sex? Of course they did.}

[Why did we choose not to write the shower scene? Well because the author is much too awkward to do so.]

{So awkward.]

[Much awkwardness.]

{For any further questions, please contact this number: 555-fuck you I'm the author so I can do what I want.}

[And yes, we realize that's much too long for a phone number.]

{Now back to your regularly scheduled program.}  
~  
Wade's mood can flip on a dime, it's a character trait that he's always possessed but chose just to exploit it now that it's relevant to the story. Anyway, point is, Wade can go from being super happy to hella pissed in an instant. Is this because he's actually a big emotional teddy bear on the inside but never expresses his emotions to anyone because no one would ever listen to him? Yes. So naturally, it's very hard for Wade to control his emotions and express his feelings to people. It just something that he doesn't do every often. And right now was one of those moments where Wade is an emotional yo-yo. He got his few moments of bliss in the shower with his baby boy, but now that they were out, dried, and dressed, his hostile mood from before was returning and he had no way to stop it. 

{At least Peter looks adorable our clothes.}

That part was true. Their super suits weren't done in the wash yet, so Peter had to borrow some of Wade's clothing. And by God's ass did he look amazing. Wade had tried to find the smallest pieces of clothing he owned, but to no avail did he succeed. Peter ended up wearing one of his hoodies and the only pair of skinny jeans that he owned. The jeans had been a joke present from Weasel, knowing with Wade's skin that he would never be able to wear them. Wade did not appreciate the joke. And Weasel did not appreciate the bullet in his foot. But by no means were they skinny on Peter. They were too long and waist band too big, but by some miracle they stayed up. And the hoodie? Sweet Mother Teresa it was gorgeous on him. Wade had a thing for tiny people in oversized hoodies. So did he give Peter the largest hoodie he owned? Maybe. But Peter didn't need to know that. Wade, on the other hand, wore one of his favourite dresses. The black cheerleading dress (Avenging Spiderman #12). He hoped wearing one of his most form fitting dresses would have helped to cheer him up, but it didn't. And now he sat on the armrest of the couch with his arms crossed and Peter was laying down on the cushions. Wade had both on his hands tucked under his arms in attempt not to look at them. He could feel the warm sticky blood on them, so he knew he was hallucinating. It was bad enough to feel the thickness of the liquid coating his hands, he didn't want to see it too. And more importantly, Wade didn't want Peter to see it either; not that he would be able to see Wade's hallucinations anyway. But sometimes, to Wade, they felt so real that he forgot other people weren't seeing what he was. 

“Wade!” Peter shouted his name, annoyance hinting at his tone. By what Wade could tell, Peter had been calling his name for a while but he didn't notice. 

“What?” He didn't mean to sound so bitter when he spoke, it just came out that way.

“Are you okay?” That was the second time Peter asked that question this evening. And it would be the second time Wade was gonna avoid it.

“Yeah I'm fine, just zoned out.” 

{Real convincing.}

[Oh yeah, 5 stars.]

“How about you guys just shut up?” Wade didn't bother to make sure Peter knew that that wasn't directed at him. Wade wanted to keep the talking to a minimum. Was this out of character? Yes, but the more he talked, the heavier his hands felt. And the heavier his hands felt meant the more blood there was on them. 

{It's probably dripping on the couch.}

[That's gonna leave a stain.]

Wade tried not to think about it, repeating over and over in his head not to look at his hands. 

“Wade.” Peter repeated his name. And Wade knew that when Peter spoke, it was all fluent. But it registered at choppy in his mind, getting interrupted by more voice. 

_Don't look Don't look Don't look_

“Is something wrong?”

_Don't look Don't look Don't look Don't look_

“You've been acting weird lately.”

_Don'tlookDon'tlookDon'tlookDon'tlookDon'tlook_

“You know you can tell me if something's bothering you.” Peter sat up reached his hand out towards him and that was Wade's cue to move. He quickly got up from his seat and stumbled a few steps forward, keeping his hands tuck beneath his arms. 

[Turn around dodo or else we'll look suspicious.]

{We already do!}

Wade spun a little too quickly on his heals and nearly bumped into the TV beside him. He tried to smile at Peter who furrowed his brow at him, “No-” Wade cleared his throat, “I-I'm fine, honest.”

[Honest? Honestly why do we even try?]

“Wade.” By Peter's firm tone, Wade knew he wasn't convinced, “What's going on?”

{Don't tell him. We can't tell him. He'll hate us.}

For once Wade was in agreement with his thought boxes. He could not tell Peter the truth. He couldn't show Peter his hands. So he kept them hidden and he kept silent. Peter noticed right away.

“Why are you standing like that?” 

“Standing like what?”

{Oh good plan, play dumb. Cause that's not obvious at all.}

“Why are you hiding your hands?” Peter now got up from where he was sitting, slowly making his way over to Wade. Panic surged in his gut as Peter neared him. Then he heard something dripping onto the floor, like a leaky faucet. Wade mistakenly looked down before he could stop himself. On the floor were drips of blood, slowly forming a small puddle. Wade's eyes followed the trail of drips up and noticed it was coming from his hidden hands. Shit. He quickly glued his gaze back onto Peter who was now standing right in front of him. He didn't seem to notice the blood on the floor. 

“What's in your hands?” Peter narrowed his eyes with suspicion and eyed Wade's arms. 

_Please don't look_

“Nothing's in my hands.” Wade answered too quickly, thus deepening Peter's look of wariness. 

_Don't look at me_

Peter held out his hand towards Wade and just when he was about to touch his arm, Wade swatted Peter's hand away. Blood splattered against Peter's face but Wade never saw him flinch. He knew this was all in his head, that there was no blood on his hands or Peter's face, but that didn't stop him from reacting. 

“Shit! Sorry baby boy.” Wade cupped one of Peter's cheeks to wipe the blood away, but that only made everything worse. Now there was his bloody hand print on Peter's cheek. That didn't settle well in Wade's chest. He rapidly pulled his hand away from Peter's face and stared at both his hands in horror. Sure enough, the blood was there and it just seemed to be pooling from his hands. It was as if they were the heart of some twisted fountain that would just keep gushing its crimson liquid till the end of time. Blood dripped from his hands in large, string-like drops. They heavily fell onto the ground with loud plops, matching in time with his heartbeat. Wade felt his throat go dry. 

“Wade?” Peter's voice no longer held the distrust tone he once used, now it was only filled with worry, “Is there something wrong with your hands?” 

Wade decided he hand to play through this hallucination. It wasn't worth getting Peter involved. 

“N-No.” He croaked, wishing his mouth would produce some saliva so he could gulp it down, “Of course there's not. Why would there be something wrong with my hands?”

[Way to play it cool.]

{We're doing the best we can!}

“Because you're acting like there is.” Peter responded simply then took of one of Wade's hands in his own, studying, “Do they hurt?” 

Wade couldn't answer, he couldn't take his eyes off of Peter touching his hand, running his thumb over the palm, spreading the blood everywhere. Wade wanted to pull away, he wanted to violently lash out, he wanted to escape. But he couldn't. He could only watch as the blood that stain his hands also stained Peter's innocent ones. 

{Note to readers, that last line was foreshadowing.}

Wade shook his head in response, unable to speak. He knew he had to stop acting like a mad man. He had to act like he always does, which was far from this. But Wade could barely tell what was real anymore, his eyes always played so many tricks on him. And it only got worse from there. Wade started to see people. One by one, the men that he supposedly killed started to appear in the living room. All 17 of the Weapon-X agents that he murdered were now standing in front of him. Peter's back was facing the men so he wasn't seeing them. 

{Protect Peter.}

[Pull him in.]

Wade didn't hesitate. He pulled Peter close to him, ignoring the blood on his hands. Keeping Peter safe was more important. Peter was shocked and at first tried to back out of the tight embrace, but Wade didn't let go so he stopped struggling. Wade kept Peter's head hidden, there was no way in hell he was gonna see all these men in their living room. 

{Get out your gun.}

[We can't kill them in front of Peter!]

{We killed all of them once, we can do it again.}

Wade went to reach for one of his guns but found that it wasn't there. Oh right, he was still in his dress. He didn't have any ammo on him. No weapons, no guns, nothing. He was defenseless, which meant Peter was defenseless. The men were slowly approaching them, their footsteps low and dragging across the floor. They were walking almost like zombies, but much more lively. Wade wanted to cry out, he wanted to yell and curse at the fuckers to stay back. But he stayed silent. He watched as they slowly circled him and Peter. Wade clung onto Peter like he was a teddy bear, probably squeezing the life out of him. Wade was trying to hold himself back, but only when one of the men got too close to Peter did he nearly lose it. One guy, we'll call him Fucker #12, broke out of the circle to stand directly in front of Wade. But it wasn't Wade he was looking at, it was Peter. Wade hated the lust that filled Fucker #12's eyes and as soon as his hand reached out in a cupping motion, Wade knew what he was going for. That's when he lashed out. With one of his hands, he violently swatted Fucker #12's hand away from Peter's ass. In his delusion, Wade thought he actually knocked the hand away. But in reality Wade's hand came down and slapped Peter's ass pretty hard. And judging from what they did in the shower, it had to hurt. 

“Ow fuck!” Peter shouted and pushed himself away from Wade, breaking their hug. A quick jolt of panic rushed through Wade as he thought Peter was going to back up right into Fucker #12, but he didn't. Fucker #12 was gone, as were all the other men. Wade glanced down at his hands, there wasn't a trace of blood on them. Relief flooded his system, until Peter started to yell at him again, “What the hell Wade!?”

{Uh-oh.}

[We're in deep shit now.]

Wade cursed as guilt over took him again, but it came with no hallucinations this time. His sour mood also returned, “Sorry.”

[What the hell is wrong with you?]

{Could you be any less apologetic?}

“Here I thought you were upset!” Peter continued to shout and Wade cringed, knowing he deserved every last word of it, “But there you go and slap-” Peter paused, noticing Wade's discomfort, “-and slap...and...” He sighed, “And you are upset, aren't you?”

Wade couldn't bear to meet Peter's eyes, he nodded his head while crossing his arms again.

“And you're not gonna tell me what's wrong, are you?”

Wade shook his head this time. Peter knew him so well. 

With a hefty sigh, Peter rang his fingers through his hair before coming up with an idea, “Let's go out to eat.”

This time, Wade had to look up, “What?”

“Let's go out for dinner.” Peter half smiled, “My treat.”

Wade blinked once, then stared at Peter, “I don't wanna.” He pouted.

{Although dinner with this hot piece of ass sounds amazing after this hellish day.}

[Why don't we stop being a baby and go out?]

But that was the thing. When Wade was upset, he acted like a toddler. 

“C'mon Wade, let me take you out. It might make you feel better.” Peter wasn't giving up. He was stubborn like that. 

{He's basically asking us out on a date!}

[This is a once in a life time opportunity!]

But like all good things in his life, he had to ruin it. Why should he go out with Peter? Why should he have a good time? Why should he do anything?

[We're being ridiculous.]

{We're pushing Peter away.}

Peter narrowed his eyes, not in anger, but in determination, “I'm not taking no for an answer Wade. You're gonna stop being a baby. We're gonna go out. We're gonna eat. And you are going to enjoy it.” Peter placed his hand on the inside of Wade's elbow as if preventing him from running away. Wade stared in surprise at Peter. He was being so assertive. Assertive Peter was hot. 

{Too hot.}

[Hot damn.]

Wade found himself in trouble. Half of him kept wanting to act like a baby, he liked the attention it brought him. But now that Peter was demanding they go out rather than asking, he found himself unable to say no for any longer, “I'll uh- I'll go get changed then.” With that statement, neither of them moved. Peter was still holding onto Wade's arm and Wade never bothered to tell him to let go. 

“Why do you have to change?” Peter wondered and at first Wade thought he was joking. But when now laughter came after, he realized Peter was genuinely wondering. 

“Petey-Pie, I'm in a dress.” Wade thought that was explanation enough, but Peter was left unsatisfied. 

“So? You once walked through town with nothing but my shirt covering your waist.”

“That's different.”

“Is it?” 

“Why do you care?” Wade could hear hostility creep into his tone, but in his defense Peter was being awfully pushy.

“Because I like your dress.” At Peter's remark, Wade turned his head to look at the blushing boy. But Peter wasn't looking back at Wade. He was just staring blankly out the window, making it obvious that he was avoiding Wade's gaze, “And I like your skin. And I like when you aren't afraid to show it.”

“You sure do _like_ a lot of things don't ya Pete?” Wade noted dryly. He was never one to take compliments well. 

{Would it kill him to say the word 'love' just once?}

[It's like Petey-Pie's allergic to that word or something.]

“You know what I mean Wade. I just want you to be able to show your skin without being ashamed of it.” Peter spoke quietly every time he admitted things like this. First time he confessed Wade was more than 'just a friend'? Spoke quietly. First time he confessed he might have actual feelings for Wade? Quiet as a mouse. It was a trait of Peter's that both annoyed Wade and made him unnaturally happy. 

But now it was Wade's turn to lower the volume of his voice, “Sorry to disappoint ya Pete, but that's never going to happen.” 

With a sad sigh, Peter let go of Wade's arm, “You can go change.”

{Awww, just look at that face!}

[Peter's so cute when he's pout-y.]

{He looks so sad.}

[It's because of us.]

{We're a monster!}

Wade prolonged his groan, dragging his hands over his face and he looked up at the ceiling as if it would have all the answers to his questions. It didn't. It was just boring and white. Like a lot people on this earth. 

“Fine.” He gave in against his will, unable to resist the puppy dog eye look Peter had going on. But that didn't stop him from being grumpy about it, “I'll go get my coat.” Wade didn't wait for Peter's answer before he trudged to his room and back, grabbing his coat off of his bed post, “Alright Pete, let's go out.” When Wade looked back at Peter, he was stifling a laugh, “What's so funny Web-Head?”

“You look ridiculous.” The words barely escaped from Peter's lips without a laugh. 

Wade was appalled, “Wha- I thought you liked this look!”

[We do look ridiculous.]

{We're wearing a jacket over a hella hot dress, of course we look fucking ridiculous.}

“I'm not taking off the jacket.” Wade stated as if it was a fact, not an option. To his surprise, Peter didn't argue. He just shook his head laughing then took Wade's hand in his. 

“C'mon, let's just go.” Peter offered a smile and, much like many other parts of Peter, Wade wished he could trap it in a jar and keep it forever. It was warm, and very bright. And at first glance, Wade thought it didn't really suit Peter. It wasn't a 'Peter smile'. Usually his smile always had a hint of hesitance hidden on his lips. And doubt was a factor Peter held in his eyes every time he smile, as if he was second guessing himself, wondering if it was really okay to smile. But sometimes, Wade would catch a rare glimpse of when Peter would actually smile without a worry or thought in mind. It was usually when Peter would laugh, like a real hard belly laugh that you would have to take a minute or two to catch your breath. Or sometimes when Peter would throw his head back in laughter, that same bright smile would return. And now, it was here again. 

{We are four words away from killing that smile.}

[Hey Peter, we actually killed those men from Weapon-X. Aren't you proud of us?]

{That's more that four words.}

Wade, realizing he hadn't responded to Peter, obliged to his request and opened the door for him, “After you M' Lady.” 

“Whoever says Wade Wilson isn't a gentlemen would be lying.” Peter smiled, again, but with mischief pulling at the corners. He dragged Wade out of the apartment, closing and locking the doors behind them. 

~~ 

“It's fucking freezing!” Wade didn't bother to lower his voice once they entered the cafe. It was the one back in like, Chapter 10 where Peter and Wade met for their first 'sorta kinda but not really' date. They decided this time they should actually try to eat at this cafe.

“I know! I'm sorry!” Peter felt like he was apologizing for the millionth time that night. It had started to snow on the way to the coffee shop, and Wade being in a dress, nearly froze to death. And he, of course, blamed Peter for it. He was the little shit who made him wear the dress anyway. The two of them shook the light white powder from their shoulders and head before taking a seat in a booth. It was positioned in a far corner of the cafe, kinda isolated from the rest. It was a good spot according to Wade, for obvious reasons. Almost as soon as they sat down, a waitress came over to their table. Wade looked at her up and down, not in a way that signaled he was checking her out, but more in disbelief. She was young and wore her brown hair back in a low pony tail. And she was fucking short. Like, even shorter than Peter. If Wade had to guess, she had to be around 5'1 or 5'2. 

“Don't you have to be 18 to be a waitress?” Wade remarked, earning himself an unamused glance from the girl. Wade had the hood of his jacket covering his head, and hopefully, most of his face. 

{Or is that just a Canadian thing?}

“I get that a lot.” The girl replied flatly, taking a pen and note pad from the apron she had tied around her waist, “But sir, with all due respect, this is a low-budget coffee shop in New York City, do you really think they care about age restriction?” 

[She's sassy.]

{This should be interesting.}

“Touché.” Wade admitted defeat but was quick to think of something else to say, “Lemme guess, you're a failing actress?”

“Artist.” She corrected like she had done it a million times before. Waitress lady glanced out the window then back at Peter and Wade. Her tone almost had a mock to it, “Lemme guess, you two look like hot chocolate people.” She started to scribble on her notepad before either of them got the chance to answer. 

“Actually, yeah.” Peter confirmed, “We are.” They had discussed it before hand that when they got here, they were both in desperate need of hot chocolates. And Wade especially wouldn't shut up about the fact that he wouldn't have needed a hot chocolate if Peter had just let him change into some different clothing. But now that they were here, a hot chocolate date sounded pretty appealing.

“Oh, so the cute one actually talks.” the waitress spoke with dry humour. But Wade didn't like it.

[Is she hitting on Peter?]

{Kill her.}

Oh Wade was going to kill her. Not physically, of course, but still with a weapon. Probably his sharpest weapon. His tongue. Wade could see it in the papers now 'Local girl killed by kickass come backs.' 

“Hey-!” That's as far as Wade got before sassy pants continued.

“Don't worry, you're the pretty one.” She said which made Wade shut up. And confused. Pretty? “Your dress.” She clarified, “I like your dress.” 

{Oh.}

[Oh.]

“Oh. Uh. Thanks.” Wade mumbled, slightly embarrassed that he was about to mouth off this lady who clearly had a sensible fashion choice. 

“Anything else for the happy couple?” She went back to speaking with her dull tone, this was a girl who clearly hated her job. 

“Oh we're not- I mean, we are- but how did- how did you know?” Peter stumbled over his words, his already rosy cheeks flushing a darker shade of pink. He tugged on a few stray locks of his hair, needing to fidget with something. 

The waitress merely shrugged, “Lucky guess. I'll be back with your hot chocolates.” She walked off and after she left, Wade exchanged a glance with Peter. 

“She was uh...” Peter struggled to find a fitting word to say, “...interesting.” 

“Yeah,” Wade nodded his head thoughtlessly, “nice tits.”

“Wade!”

“Don't worry, yours are better.”

Peter sighed, he wasn't amused with this topic but still tried to stay on the up side of it, “Well, at least your back to normal.”

{Normal?}

[Do we even know that word?]

{Nothing about us is normal.}

“Are you feeling better?” 

{We were until now, thanks for reminding us sweetheart.}

“Yeah,” Wade tried to sound as convincing as possible, “I am.”

{Liar.}

[It's not like that's anything new. We've been lying to Peter for ages now.]

Wade resisted the urge to yell at his thought boxes as the waitress came back with their drinks, setting each a cup in front of him and Peter. Sometimes Wade found it hard to remember that nobody else heard what his boxes had to say but him. This had both it's advantages and disadvantages.

[Pro: No one else can hear the vulgar things we say.]

{Con: No one else can hear the vulgar things we say.}

Going unnoticed by him, Wade's hand clenched tightly around his cup. Peter, however, noticed. “Are you sure about that?” He asked while twirling his spoon around in his cocoa before taking a soft sip. 

{Go ahead, lie to him.}

[We've been doing it so often now.]

“Wade?” 

{Spidey's waiting.}

[C'mon lover boy, tell him how you're fine.]

{Even though}

[We}

{Are Not}

“Fine.” Wade finished what his boxes were planning on saying. He let go of his cup of cocoa that was starting to burn his hand and shifted his gaze to look up at Peter. Peter's eyes were breathtakingly wide and his brow was arched with concern, creating a deep crease in his forehead, “I'm fine.” Wade repeated but put no effort in it. It was as if he wanted Peter to keep asking if he was feeling okay, Wade wanted the attention. 

{Attention Whore.}

But at the same time, Wade wanted Peter to stop being so damn pushy. 

“You know it's kinda hard to talk to you with your hood up.” Peter pointed out lamely and leaned forward to try and catch a glimpse of Wade's face. Wade immediately shifted his hidden gaze from Peter's face to the table and leaned back in the seat. It wasn't the smartest move but Wade felt that if Peter saw his face, it would give away everything he has been trying to protect him from.

{Go on pretty boy, take off your jacket.}

[Show the world our gorgeous face.]

{It'll make Peter happy, and that's all we're trying to do right?}

[Oh definitely, that's why we're killing all these men.]

Wade curled his hands into fist against the surface of the table and started bouncing his leg.

“Wade,” Peter's voice was desperate and tired. Hearing him sound this way stung, “What's wrong?”

[Everything.]

“Nothing.”

“You don't have to lie to me.”

{Oh yes we do.}

“I'm not.” 

“It sounds like you are.”

[We are.]

“Well, I'm not.”

“Wade, if you would just tell me-” 

“How about you try minding your own god damn business?!” Wade snapped and silence fell over the cafe. All heads turned in their direction, not that there were many to begin with, but all the eyes did not help Wade's mood. 

{Oh boy.}

[You really fucked up now.]

Peter's soft gaze formed into something harder. He slammed his cup down on the table, drops of hot chocolate went flying and landed on Wade's bare hands. It burned, but not as much as Peter's eyes. With one smooth motion, Peter stood up, dug some money out of his pocket and slammed that on the table too. Then he stormed off. 

“Shit.” Wade cursed at himself, this outing did not go as planned. He stood up from their booth and glanced around the cafe, “The fuck you guys looking at?” Wade's voice was thick with malevolence as he dashed out of the cafe and into the snowy night. Peter only made it down the road before Wade caught up with him, “Peter, wait!” Peter didn't stop. He kept walking with his hands tucked furiously into the pockets of his, well, Wade's hoodie. If things weren't so tense at the moment, Wade would have taken this chance to admire Peter in his oversized clothing. Unfortunately he did not get that opportunity. “Peter!” Wade called out again and this time grabbed Peter's wrist. He spun the young hero around so quickly and close that their chest bumped together. Peter, however, was quick to back away. Snow fell softly down upon both of them, coating their shoulders with a delicate layer of white. A single street lamp was their only source of light as they stood at the corner of a quiet street, standing perfectly in the center of the circle of light from the lamp. A cool breeze would pass between the two of them every now and again, Peter's hair flowing with the wind would tempt Wade to just capture his baby boy and run his fingers through his hair. Despite the semi-romantic scenery, nothing about the atmosphere was sweet. 

“What? So now you wanna talk?” Peter's voice was calm but held so much anger to it that Wade was taken aback. He really pissed Peter off this time. 

“Yeah I-” Wade tried to get a word in, but apparently Peter wasn't finished with him yet. 

“I tried to talk to you in the coffee shop, I tried to talk to you in our apartment, I tried I tried I tried! But it wasn't good enough for you! How am I suppose to know how to cheer you up when you won't even tell me what's wrong!” Despite Peter yelling, Wade barely paid attention to what he was saying. He was too busy studying his face and how it reflected so much anger but in Peter's eyes there was something else. There was concern. Even after all the shit Wade did and said tonight, Peter was still worried about him, “I want to know how to make you feel better and I want to be good at this relationship thing we have going on but you're not making it any easier!” 

{Yeah, way to go us.}

[I knew getting involved with this kid was a bad idea.]

Wade shook his head, trying to get his voice out. Now was not the time to listen to them, now was the time to listen to Peter, “I know, Pete, I'm sorry.”

[We're horrible at relationships.]

{Did we honestly expect this one to be any different?}

[We're not capable of caring for people.]

{No matter how hard we try. We're always going to act like the monster Weapon-X created.}

“Just-” Peter gulped, running his fingers through his hair, “Tell me what to do Wade. What's wrong?”

“It-” Wade choked on his words. 

{Are we gonna tell him?}

[We can't tell him. Don't you dare.]

“It hurts.” Wade said lamely, his head drooping down. 

{Can't even look Peter in the eyes? Pathetic.} 

“What hurts?” Peter's voice went back to being calm and sympathetic, they were finally getting somewhere tonight. He took a step closer to Wade so that their chests touched again. Being this close, Peter had to look up, but Wade didn't meet his gaze. He was always looking to the side. 

“Everything.” Wade answered simply, not lying for once, “Everything hurts.” 

{Our skin.}

[Our heart.]

{Our stomach}

[Our conscience.]

Peter tilted his head down, looking puzzled. Wade's guilt clawed at his stomach and coiled around in his brain. He couldn't take it much longer, “Pete, listen, I-I gotta tell you something.”

[Tell him what now?]

{That something better not be the something we're thinking of.}

“Those men from Weapon-X,” Wade began and with each word it became harder and harder to speak. 

[The Fucker's gonna do it.]

{What did we tell you? Do you want Peter to hate us?}

[Everyone else already does that for us, do we really want to add Peter to that list?]

“I- well I-” Wade's breath hitched as his words got lodged in his throat. He tried to shake the memory away, he didn't want to think about the blood that stained his hands. But how could you forget something when it's constantly there to remind you? Wade didn't need to go any further because he saw the moment the light bulb went off in Peter's head. He clued in. 

{Oh god, he knows. We didn't even have to say it but he knows.}

[Get ready for another lonely night.]

“You've been recognizing them, haven't you?” Peter spoke softly, a hand place directly over Wade's heart. Now it was Wade's turn to seemed puzzled. Where was Peter going with this? 

{Just go with it.}

[We can keep Peter in our lives a little longer.]

“Um, yeah.” Wade's attempt to keep the confusion out of his voice was futile, “I have been.” It technically wasn't a lie. He has seen their faces before. 

Peter sighed, a puff of his breath visible in the night air. He rested his head against Wade's chest, unable to look him in the eyes. Wade was thankful for that because if Peter would look up, he would crack. The truth would come out. Then their relationship would crack. And that would be that. Wade would be left feeling like just another redundant person in this world. He was a chip in a vase that nobody wanted. A crack in a glass that rendered it useless. A smudge that no matter how much you tried to erase it, it would always be there to ruin the picture. He was a flaw. He was Peter's flaw. 

Peter's fist curled against Wade's chest and his voice came out surprisingly bitter, “I've been inconsiderate.”

Wade blinked, “Wait, what?”

“I've been so focused on saving these people, on stopping the kidnappings, that I forgot about you.” Wade wanted to interrupt to ask what the hell Peter was talking about, but he kept his mouth shut as Peter continued, “I've been leaving you alone to fight the Weapon-X agents, they must bring back horrible memories.”

Wade was speechless as his hands ghosted Peter's spine, unsure if he should hug him. He wanted to. He wanted to take Peter into his arms and never let go. But if the hug happened, that would be it. Wade would have to keep lying to Peter. He would have to let Peter believe that seeing those men's faces was the reason for his foul mood these pasts few weeks. It was partly true, but it wasn't seeing their faces alive that freaked him out. 

“You don't have to come on the missions anymore.” Peter offered but his voice faltered. He was just as scared as Wade was. At his words, Wade wrapped his arms around Peter, bringing him into a giant and well needed hug. 

“No way.” Wade answered simply but sternly, “No way am I letting you go alone.” He buried his head in Peter's shoulder, his back arching down. He shook his head as if to dismiss the idea even further, “I'm never letting you go alone.” Wade spoke but his voice was muffled as he breathed in Peter's scent, “Besides, we're partners. And that's not what partners are suppose to do.”

[Just to clarify for those who don't get the reference. Back in chapter five, Peter said something like this.]

Peter chuckled into Wade's chest. The word partner meant so much more now. Partners in crime were never suppose to let the other go into a fight alone. Partners in relationships were never suppose to let the other go through life alone. 

{It's called having a double meaning.}

“C'mon Wade, lets go home.” Peter smiled and semi backed out of the hug, his arms were still around Wade's waist but they were outstretched.

Wade held up one of his hands, “Hold my hand?” 

Peter laced his fingers with Wade's, “Gladly.” Now hand in hand, the two of them started to head back to their apartment. Every now and then Wade would squeeze Peter's hand a little tighter. Hand holding didn't seem like much, but to Wade, it was everything. When he had Peter to hold onto, he knew he wasn't alone. Peter's touch silenced his voices, it lifted him up and kept him grounded. Wade felt that whenever he held onto Peter's hand, his burden was spread out. Weight was transferred to both their shoulders. Wade didn't have to be alone when he had a hand to hold on to. 

[Don't be a fucking idiot.]

{We always end up alone.}

At the words of his voices, Wade's chest prickled. 

He squeezed Peter's hand a little tighter, never planning to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of the cookie


	24. Chapter 23

Peter knew Wade was hiding something from him. He had this gut feeling about it. It was normal for Wade's mood to change, hell it was normal for Wade himself to change, but what shocked Peter the most were his eyes. Wade's eyes, despite whatever mood he was in, were always full of life. They were a sea of blue with waves that gave away any of his emotions. If Peter needed to know how or what Wade was feeling, his eyes would tell him. But over the past few weeks, Wade's eyes were draining. The colour became duller as his moods got darker. They weren't the same calm ocean blue that Peter knew. There was a storm inside Wade's eyes now, and Peter didn't know how long he could keep afloat. So he knew something was up, he just didn't know what. Countless times before, Peter had tried to cheer Wade up. From the beginning, he knew he wasn't going to be good at it. He wasn't the best at comfort, and he certainly didn't know how to make people happy. Especially Wade. It was hard with him because Peter had barely ever saw him as anything else but happy. Any time they were together, Wade would smile. But now that that smile was fading, the more Peter was panicking. 

“Hey Peter?” Steve called and poked his head inside Peter's room. Looking around until he found his son slouched over at his desk, twirling what appeared to be a dead flower between his fingers. At the sound of his father's voice, Peter sat up and looked over his shoulder. 

“Oh, hey Pops.” 

Steve walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Uh, Peter? Why do you have that?” He pointed to the flower in his hand. And if Steve wasn't mistaken, a bit of heat rushed to his son's cheeks. 

“Oh, uh, Wade gave it to me.” A nervous smile spread across Peter's face as he shoved the flower safely back into the top drawer of his desk. Truth be told, Peter was a bit of a hoarder. He liked to collect the little things that had big meaning. Like the flower, Wade gave that to him the night he tried to make a romantic date for the two of them. It was also the first time he ever saw Wade's face. And the night they decided to be more than just friends (Peter still has a little trouble with the word boyfriend. But he'll come around.)

Steve chuckled softly and stroked Peter's head as he stared down at the floor. 

Uh oh. 

Steve didn't like that look. 

“Peter, is there something bothering you?” He hushed as Peter closed his eyes, sighing. His dad always knew when there was something wrong. Steve could read Peter like a book, so there was no point in trying to hide it. 

“Pops, how...” Peter hesitated, second guessing himself before asking the question he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to, “How can you tell if someone is growing tired of you?” Peter tensed, almost fearing the response Steve might give. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but the thought has crossed his paranoid mind once or twice. What if Wade was growing tired of him? What if Wade didn't want to see him anymore? What if he was getting in his way? What if he was too much trouble?

Steve's grip on Peter's shoulder tightened, “Why would ask that Peter? Is something going on with Wade?” 

“No, well, yes, I-I mean-” Peter stuttered then sighed, slouching lower in his chair, “I don't know anymore.”

Steve got down on his knees so that he could be face to face with Peter, both of his hands now planted firmly on his son's shoulders. Steve stared into his eyes and Peter wasn't sure if it was okay to stare back. But he couldn't look away, “Is Wade treating you okay? Did he do something to you?” 

“Wade didn't to anything.” Peter assure and pried his father's hands off of his shoulders, they fell onto his lap instead, “But that's kind of the problem. He's been acting weird lately, and he won't tell me what's wrong. I mean, he kinda did a few weeks ago and I took him out for hot chocolate and we talked or at least we tried to and-” Peter paused, taking a deep breath as he realized that he was rambling, “Point being, he still seems upset and I'm not sure how to cheer him up. Is he just growing tired of me?” 

Steve narrowed his brow in concentration, contemplating what his son just told him. He knew Peter would always carry some of his childhood naivety with him, and to Steve, Peter was still just a kid. He was young and still made decisions that probably could have used some more thought. But Peter was more level headed and well rounded than most, so to see his son showing insecurity was still something he had yet to get use to. 

“Peter,” Steve use the most comforting voice he could fathom, “If I know anything about Wade, it's that he would never get tired of you. He likes to cling to you like a puppy.” This earned a small smile from Peter, but he still wasn't convinced. Steve sighed, placing his hand on his son's cheek, “You always carry so much responsibility on your shoulders son.” 

“I know.” Peter's shoulders slouched, his gaze averted to the ground. 

“I understand why you want to help Wade, I really do, but maybe this is just a part of him that can't be changed. I mean, you know Wade, he's a little-”

“Crazy?” Peter dared to meet his father's eyes.

“I was gonna say out there.” Steve shifted uncomfortably on his knees, “Which could explain his behaviour. Maybe it's nothing more than Wade being, well, Wade.” 

Peter scratched his head, thinking over what Steve said. Maybe he was right, maybe Wade was just being suspicious because Wade _is_ suspicious. Maybe he wasn't hiding anything from him at all. Maybe he was just over thinking things. Peter sighed, smiling up at his dad.

“You're probably right Pops, thanks.”

Steve smiled warmly, standing and pausing in the doorway before leaving Peter's room, “Anytime.” Seconds after he disappeared our the door, Steve poked his head back in, “I forgot to do what I actually came to your room for.” He admitted with a tinge of embarrassment, “Peter, Bruce is here to see you.”

At the mention of his uncle's name, Peter was immediately awake and all his previous worries were cast aside. If Bruce was here, Peter knew that only meant one thing. He had more information on the mysterious drug. Peter could have time for feelings later, it was all business now. He jumped up from his chair and followed Steve down the hallway. It was in the living room where Bruce was waiting for him. His normally tamed hair was a mess, his glasses were askew on his nose, and in his arms were a bundle of papers. He looked like he hasn't slept in days. 

“Bruce!” Peter called and ran over to his rather flustered uncle. 

“DNA!” Despite Bruce's enthusiasm, his response made no sense. Not a split second after confusion washed over Peter's face did Bruce take him by the wrist and started dragging him down to the labs. Once back at the pristine Stark laboratories, they slipped on their white lab coats and masks again before entering. Bruce hurried to the end of the room and Peter quickly followed behind him. It was only when they were at the lab did he finish his explanation, “DNA is the key Peter!”

“What are you talking about?” Peter tried to peer over his uncle's shoulder as he scurried around their workspace, grabbing tools and equipment from left and right. He finally settled down once he took the sample drug Peter gave him from its protective container. 

“Watch this.” Bruce answered simply and plucked a piece of hair from his head, he dropped it in one of the many test tubes that now contained this mysterious drug. He swirled the vile he had in his hand around and Peter watched the piece of hair dissolve into the solution. Bruce forcefully took Peter's hand and dropped some of the liquid onto it. It sizzled against his skin. 

“Bruce what are you...” Peter's voice faded out as he lost his ability to speak. Like before, the drug had the effect of turning one's skin horribly scarred, and that's exactly what it did to Peter's hand except this time his skin also turned green, “What the hell..” Peter whispered to himself, unsure if he was amazed or terrified. 

“DNA stabilizes the shifting molecules that I showed you last time!” Bruce claimed, his normally calm composure melting away at his scientific discovery, “That's Hulk DNA, so your hand is green!”

“Wait wait wait,” Peter fumbled over his words, trying to wrap his head around this whole situation, “Didn't you say last time that if you were able to stabilize the changing molecules, it would make the effect permanent?”

“See that's what I thought too. But after being able to replicate the drug and testing many different DNA types, the effect always wore off.” Bruce explained but to no avail did it silence the scientific side of Peter's mind. He just had more questions. 

“Then how to do you know DNA is the key?” Peter asked, studying his hand as it turned from green scars back to his normal skin tone. 

“I don't, not a 100% for sure. But I have a theory. And to test it, we're gonna need a sample of Deadpool's DNA.” At Bruce's statement, Peter felt his whole body tense up. Getting Wade's DNA wouldn't be as simple as taking a piece of hair from his head. He didn't have hair. Peter knew they would need a bigger sample. One that could be used multiple times in order to test Bruce's theory more than once. The ideal DNA sample? It would have to be Wade's blood. 

“W-Why do you need Wade's DNA?” Peter tried to keep his voice and his supper in his stomach under control

“Because I feel like he's the missing ingredient. All the signs point to him. The experience he has with this drug, the effect it has on other people. It literally turns other people's skin into his skin. The missing component has to be his DNA.” Bruce posited then hurried over to the computer, pulling up Wade's files, he searched for the merc's blood type. Peter placed his hands on the back of Bruce's chair and leaned forward, “Think of it almost like a cake. Each ingredient is important, but if you change one of them, the cake won't quite taste right. Using that theory, I think that's why nobody else's DNA fully stabilizes the mysterious molecule. Almost like replacing sugar with salt, it just doesn't turn out right.”

“Huh.” That's all Peter could manage to say despite his mind running a thousand miles a minute. 

“That's where you come in Peter.” Bruce continued, turning in his chair so he could face his nephew, “You're closer to Deadpool than anyone else. I presume getting the DNA sample won't be easy, but maybe if it's you asking for it, he'll cooperate.”

Peter's throat went dry. He knew this was coming, he knew since the moment they got down here that he would have to be the one to get Wade's DNA. That doesn't mean he wasn't dreading it though. Peter started to regret not telling Wade about taking the drug from the vet's lab. Not knowing how he would have reacted, especially after his little freak out, Peter kept his mouth shut about his side project this whole time. But turns out now Wade was key component to this experiment. Peter silently cursed himself for putting Wade's feelings in front of something that might aid in their mission. This would bring them ten steps closer to figuring out what Weapon-X wanted and, more importantly, why they wanted Wade again. It may even be the missing link Peter needed to figure out how everything about this fucked up mission was connected. The drug, Weapon-X, the kidnappings, Wade. They all connected to each other separately, but Peter had the suspicion that he was missing something big. The sense of failure prickled at his chest, he had been irresponsible, and now he was going to pay the price. 

“How much do you need?” Peter asked, trying his best to silence the regret in his voice. There was no backing out of this mission, innocent lives could be at stake. He simply couldn't risk it. Wade's feelings have to come second now. 

“I'm gonna need a lot of samples. Blood would probably be the best way to go.” Bruce confirmed Peter's fear from before, “We can take large quantities at a time without hurting Deadpool, plus white blood cells hold a tremendous amount of DNA, so it's the best option.”

Peter nodded his head along to what Bruce was saying, although his attention was divided, “And how to we plan to take this blood?” 

“Like I said before, you're gonna have to be the one to do it.” Bruce paused and got up, searching through one of the glass cabinets in the back of the room, “So I'm gonna hook you up with the proper equipment. With this,” Bruce pulled out a strange looking machine resembling the size of a loaf of bread; except this bread had many tubes and wires attached to it, “And a few needles, it'll be just like getting a blood test done the hospital.” 

“R-right, just like that.” Peter's voice wavered as he combed a hand through his hair. Normally he would have no problems with this. It was a simple enough procedure, and although he has never done it before, there was no doubt he'd catch on pretty quick. Peter's love of science definitely came from his uncle Bruce, but his talent with machinery and mechanics came from his dad Tony. But there was one problem. Wade hated hospitals. He hated doctors. And he hated getting tested on. 

While Peter was lost in his own mind, Bruce had packed up a bag for him with everything he needed. The machine, needles, spare tubes for the machine, and disinfecting products, “If there's any complications, call me immediately.” Bruce handed him the bag.

With a blink of confusion Peter stuttered out, “W-wait, what? Now?”

“Yes now. Peter, this experiment is crucial. If my theory is correct then-” Bruce was interrupted by a long beep then Jarvis' familiar voice. 

“Doctor Banner, Mr. Stark requests your presence in his lab. He says it's urgent.” 

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off his exhaustion, “I apparently have to go. And you do too Peter, go get Wade's DNA.” Bruce hurried for the door then called back over his shoulder, “But before you do leave, mind shutting everything down and cleaning up for me?”

“Sure thing Uncle Bruce!” Peter called back, waving his uncle away as he scrambled out of the labs and down to Tony's. Peter was left alone in the room and began shutting down any equipment that they used. It would be a lie if Peter said he wasn't going quickly because he didn't want to go to Wade's. That's exactly why he was prolonging his time here in the lab. The longer he could avoid it, the better. But Peter knew he couldn't stay down here forever. Sooner than he knew it, the table was all cleaned up and everything was put away. He just needed to shut down the computer. Taking a seat in the cushioned chair, Peter was about to close the tab but he hesitated. 

Wade's files were still open. 

Peter's curious eyes couldn't help but scan the screen. The first page didn't have much. It merely consisted of a picture of Deadpool and some key information about him to the side. His name, his height, his former hair colour, and the colour of his eyes. Blue. 

“That's an understatement.” He mumbled to himself, amused. Wade's eyes weren't just blue, they were a magnificent blue, a bright blue, an ocean blue. Or at least, they use to be. His files also said his hair use to be blonde. Peter chuckled as he envisioned Wade with none other than his uncle Thor's beautiful golden locks. The image was so ridiculous he couldn't help but laugh.

Peter scrolled down to the next page.

It was all about Wade's past and Peter found himself amazed about how little detail there was. Usually, if Peter knew anything about S.H.I.E.L.D, it was that they were keen on precision. And they knew everything. But there wasn't much on Wade's history at all, just your basic stuff. Mom had cancer, Dad was a douche, sold him to Weapon-X, Wade spent a lot of his time running, then he went to live with May Parker. 

Peter froze. 

They had this on here? S.H.I.E.L.D knew that Wade lived with his aunt? The longer Peter stared at the screen, the more questions he had in his head. Did S.H.I.E.L.D organize for Wade to stay with May? Did his dads know? Did they keep it a secret from him purposely? Peter didn't want to dwell on it. He didn't even want to think about it at all. He told himself before that he was over this whole 'Aunt May raising Wade' thing. Peter told himself he was fine with it, that he wasn't hurt. That was his story and he was going to stick to it. He was fine.

Peter kept scrolling, almost like he couldn't stop himself. But the more he read, the bigger the knot of guilt got in his stomach. He knew he shouldn't be reading this, he felt as if he was invading Wade's privacy. But Peter couldn't stop himself from skimming through the pages, a dull hope glowed within him that there would be an answer in here. That somewhere in Wade's files was an answer to why he has been acting off lately. And if not an answer then a clue to something. A memory of his past? A recent event? A record of something? But once Peter found the answer, he wished he hadn't. 

Employment: Mercenary 

Status: □Good □Evil ■Neutral 

Record Kills: 261.

That couldn't be right. Last time Peter had checked Deadpool had two-hundred and forty kills. Not two-hundred and sixty one. Peter refreshed the page over and over again. There had to be a mistake. But after refreshing the page for a fifth time, the number never changed. Peter quickly closed the tab and shut off the computer. During this time his breathing had become irregular and his stomach burned with new found anger and confusion. Wade wouldn't have. He couldn't have killed someone. He promised. When would he have killed these people? Peter was with him basically every day. When? How? This couldn't be. 

“Mr. Peter?” Jarvis' voice rang over the intercom again, “Dr. Banner wanted to know if you've made your departure to Mr. Wilson's house yet. What should I tell him?”

Peter stood up abruptly and grabbed the bag Bruce had prepared for him. His knuckles turned a light shade of white as he gripped the strap of the bag that was slung around his shoulder. He started to make his way towards the exit, huffing out his answer to Jarvis with narrowed eyes.

“Tell Dr. Banner that I'm on my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's not going over there to fuck


	25. Chapter 24

“Peter, I think I'm in love with you.” 

{That was awful.}

[It made me cringe.]

Wade groaned and passed his hands over his face before setting them back on the bathroom sink and leaned forward. He forced himself to look in the now replaced mirror. His Deadpool mask was hanging over the edge of the sink as Wade stared himself down in the reflective piece of glass. He wasn't going to wimp out this time. He wouldn't break the mirror for a second time. 

[Try again,]

{Maybe with a little more pizazz.}

Wade sighed before standing up straight again, “Hey Pete, I love you! Let's have sex!”

{[No!]} 

“Well how would you guys confess then?” Wade huffed and placed his hands on his hips in frustration. It had been nearly an hour and he had made no progress. He was practicing his long awaited love confession to Peter, but it wasn't going very well. 

{We wouldn't confess.}

[This is a bad idea.]

{It's gonna freak Peter out.}

[We're gonna scare him away.]

{Nobody wants a love confession from us.}

[Nobody deserves that kind of torture.]

“You know sometimes I don't understand you guys. One moment you're telling me to go on a date with Peter, the next you're telling me that getting close to him is a bad idea.” 

{Don't look at us, we're you're brain.}

Knowing he couldn't argue with that, Wade continued practicing, “Okay, how's this? Peter, I know this is sudden and don't feel like you gotta say anything afterwards. But, uh, I-I think, I think that-, um..”

[We're stuttering too much, start over.]

“Fuck.” Wade cursed, “Who knew confessing would be this hard? We use to do it all the time!”

[But that's when we were just joking.]

{We didn't actually love him then.}

[Do we even love him now?]

“Of course I do!” Wade got defensive but then hesitated, “...I think. How can you tell?”

{Beats me.}

[Yeah same.]

He groaned again and looked at himself in the mirror. 

[Pathetic.]

{We can't even tell the difference between love and wanting to fuck them over and over again.}

“Guys, this is different.” Wade was surprised at how firm his voice grew, “If Peter never lets me fuck him again that'll be okay, I just wanna be near him.” He cringed at how bad that sounded out loud. But it was true. While he would be partially devastated, Wade would never fuck Peter again if he didn't want it. But to not be able to touch Peter would drive him mad. He just wanted to be near Peter constantly, and ideally, to lock him up in a room where only Wade himself would have access to him. Granted, that was a little extreme. But just to think of Peter being in someplace alone and enjoying himself drove Wade more insane than he already was. He hated knowing that he might not be the reason for Peter's smile. He would move mountains in order to be that reason. Wade couldn't tell if that was love or just jealously. Peter was the only reason Wade ever smiled. So he was upset that it wasn't vise versa as well. Peter had plenty reasons to smile, and Wade was just one of them.

{Makes you realize how insignificant we are, doesn't it?}

Wade sighed and slipped on his Deadpool mask. He didn't like to think about it. The thought, no the fact that he cared more for Peter than Peter did for him was something Wade dreaded. It's not that he didn't feel loved by Peter, it's just that Peter had so many things to love in his life how was there any room for him? But as for Wade, all he had was Peter. So how could he love anything else?

{You love us don't you?}

“You guys are the reason for my suffering.” Wade answered flatly and made his way out of the bathroom.

[Wow. That hurt.]

Upon entering, Wade noticed a figure. He was surprised to see Peter standing in his living room, having crawled through the window. On instinct Wade reached for his gun, but his hand didn't even get to the handle before he realized it was just Peter in his Spiderman costume. 

“Oh baby boy, don't scare my like that!” Wade panted, placing a hand to his racing heart. Peter didn't say a word, he just slipped off his Spiderman mask and let it fall to the ground. Beneath his own mask, Wade raised a brow, “Uhhh, something wrong Pete?” There was something about Peter that was throwing him off. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be surrounded by shadows that was sending chills up Wade's spine, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. 

“240.” Peter's voice was soft but deadly. His tone was darker than the shadows that covered his face.

“What?” Wade scratched his head, that number seemed oddly familiar.

“240 confirmed kills.” Peter growled again, his fist clenching at his sides. 

Oh. 

Now he knew what Peter was talking about. 

“Oh geez Petey, I-I didn't think-” 

“Now it's 261.” At Peter's statement, Wade's heart dropped. 

[He knows.]

{We're in deep shit now.}

Wade didn't need his thought boxes to point that one out. He knew it. Peter knew it. It was all gonna go down hill from here. 

“W-Who...” Peter's voice shook with anger, Wade felt his chest slowly start to tighten, “Who were they Wade? Who did you kill!?” 

Wade found himself getting unusually upset, almost like he was on the verge of tears. And when he spoke, despite planning on speaking normally, his voice was weak and pathetic. “Petey-Pie...”

“Just answer the question Wade!” Peter shouted, taking a few steps closer to him. And Wade, out of fear, backed up a step, “Who the hell did you kill!?”

“The- The men from Weapon-X.” He admitted lamely, flinching every time he caught Peter's eyes. There was no love in them. There wasn't his usual joy or concern. There was nothing but anger in his brown pearls. Well, anger, and tears. But Wade saw that anger melt into something more. Shock. Betrayal. Hurt. 

“No.” Peter ran a hand over his face, shaking his head in disbelief, “You didn't. Tell me you didn't Wade.”

At this moment, Wade never wished harder for anything. He wished he could tell Peter that. Instead, he just hung his head, unable to watch Peter's reaction. 

“I never should've trusted you.” Peter muttered heartlessly, sounding as if he was spitting poison from his mouth instead of words. Wade looked up, unsure if he was angry now or just hurt.

“What?” 

Peter wasn't afraid to stare him straight into the white eyes of his mask, “I should never had trusted you alone with those men! Do you not realize what you've done!?”

Wade narrowed his eyes, his voice gaining back its composure, “Of course I realize what I've done. Don't think that this doesn't eat away at me every single fucking day Peter.”

“It should get to you! You killed those men!”

“They were bad men!”

“They were also people!” Peter was now squared up to Wade, their chests nearly pressed against one other, “They might have been fathers, or uncles, or even grandfathers! They could have had a family, Wade! You killed someone's family!”

Wade clenched his jaw, flexing his fists by his sides. Peter wasn't listening. He wasn't understanding. He wasn't even trying to, “Did you even stop to question yourself why I had to kill those men?” Wade lowered his voice and cast his glance to the side. 

“It doesn't matter why! You didn't have to kill them! Nobody deserves to die!”

Wade chuckled darkly, “Not if they have a family, right? Because that's what's so important, right Pete? Nobody deserves to die if they might have a family at home. Well what if they don't have a family, huh!? What if they have no one!? Do they deserve to die, Peter!? Not everyone has a picture perfect family like your ass does.” 

Peter scowled, taking a step away from him, “That's not what I meant Wade!”

“Then tell me what you meant! If a bad man, alone in this fucking world, kills other people, does that not mean he deserves to die!? By killing him, we're saving all the lives of his future victims!”

“That doesn't make it the right thing to do!”

Now Wade was getting pissed. He knew that he was in the wrong. He shouldn't have killed those men. But the thought of them going after Peter sickened him more than the thought of killing them, “We don't all live by your morals Spidey!”

“I don't expect everyone to, but I expected you to!” Peter yelled and dropped his bag on the ground. His face was quickly getting more flushed the more he got angry. But Wade's attention dropped from Peter's yelling to the bag he dropped on the floor. It wasn't his normal bag, this one was different. It wasn't one Wade recognized. Normally he wouldn't have cared about some stupid new bag, not in a moment like this. But it wasn't the bag that had caught Wade's eye, it was what rolled out of it. A needle. Wade picked up the bag, which distracted Peter from his yelling, “It was the number one rule and you just- hey that's my bag!”

Wade ignored Peter and opened the satchel. If possible, his heart sank even lower, “Peter? What the hell is this?”

“Give it back, Wade.” Peter spoke sternly, holding out his hand. But Wade didn't give the bag back, he was too fear stricken with what was inside. A strange looking machine and needles. While it may have only been a few in the bag, he saw many. There was so many fucking needles. Wade's hands began to tremble. 

“What the hell were you planning on doing with this!?” He shouted, fearing the answer. Truth be told he didn't want an answer at all. He didn't want to know what Peter was doing with this retched supplies. Wade's grip on the bag became tighter as Peter tried to reach for it. 

“It's not important right now!” Peter tried to uselessly defend himself, swiping for his bag. But Wade always kept it out of his reach. 

“Yes it is!” Wade countered back, his voice so loud he could have sworn the glasses in the cupboards shook slightly. 

“I just-!” Peter sighed, seemingly calming down for now, “I needed a blood sample from you. That's all.” 

For the first time since their fight started, Wade's thought boxes had something to say.

[He wants our blood to experiment.]

{We're an experiment to him.}

[That'll all we'll ever be to anyone.]

Wade tried to shake his voice out of his head, dropping Peter's bag in the process and stumbling back a few steps. This couldn't be true. He wouldn't believe it. But in order to find out the truth, he had to ask. 

“W-Why?” Wade's voice shook, not with anger but with fear.

Peter sighed, frustration showing in every nerve of his body, “You don't want to know, Wade.”

“Looks like we were both keeping secrets then.” Wade spat, glaring up at Peter. Peter proceeded to narrow his stare, his nails digging into his palms.

“Mine isn't half as bad as yours! I didn't have to kill anybody!”

“Then why don't you go ahead and fucking tell me what it is!”

“You wanna know? Fine!” Peter closed the distance between them, “I took a sample of the drug from the vets lab and Bruce has been running tests on it! Turns out we need a sample of your DNA to stabilize the fucked up drug! We need you to continue experimenting!” 

Despite what Peter had said, Wade only registered one part of it. They needed him to continue their experiment. They needed him for their experiment. They needed him because he was a part of their experiment. He was an experiment. Another god damn scientific fucking lab test. 

{See? Told you so.}

[We've been a part of his little science project this whole time.]

“So that's it.” Wade's voice was hauntingly calm, it was maddening, “I'm just another experiment to you.” It wasn't a question. It didn't have to be. He already knew the answer. 

“What?” Peter asked harshly, ready to boil over again. 

“I'm just another piece for your science project!” Wade raised his voice but Peter did not flinch, “Is that all I've ever been to you!? You fucking tricked me!”

Peter unclenched his fists, he was ready to fight back, “What the hell are you saying!? Are you just going to forget everything I've done for you!? God, Wade! I thought you changed! I thought you were smarter than this! But then you go ahead and kill 21 people! And now you're claiming that I think of you just as an experiment!? You're stupider than I thought!”

{Stupid.}

[Experiment.]

“I-I'm not stupid Peter!” Wade hated that he stuttered, he allowed himself to show weakness. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. He was throwing blind punches, hoping one of them would land a hit, but Peter always had a comeback. He always knew what he was going to say two steps ahead of time. He knew what words would hurt Wade and which ones would damage him. Wade didn't want to listen anymore, but if he blocked out Peter then his thought boxes would become louder. If he blocked out his thought boxes, then Peter would become louder. Wade didn't know whose words were worse. 

“You sure are acting like it!” Peter was bristling, and if Wade wasn't prone to hallucinations, he could have sworn that the smoke coming out of Peter's ears were real. But to his surprise, Peter's voice lowered after that last statement. His anger fading and turning into something much worse, hurt. “I trusted you. What if people think I killed those men? You didn't stain your hands, Wade, you stained mine.”

[Killer.]

{Stupid.}

[Experiment.]

Wade clenched his jaw, he never thought of that. Each time that he killed one of the men, they were wrapped up in Spiderman's webs. If the police saw, all signs pointed to Spiderman. Wade knew he screwed up, just not this badly. He opened his mouth to speak, his expression hopelessly apologetic hidden beneath his mask, but no words came out. Peter took this opportunity to keep talking.

“How could you? You know how I feel about killing and you just...do you...do you even feel any remorse at all for them? I never expected you to be the type to get petty revenge.”

{Petty.}

[Killer.]

{Stupid.}

[Experiment.]

“I honestly thought you changed, Wade. After how hard you worked to become a hero, you just threw it all away.” 

Wade didn't know what it was, but something snapped in him. It wasn't the same anger that he felt towards those Weapon-X men, he had no desire to hurt Peter physically. But emotionally? That was a different story. It felt as if Peter just shove a chisel through his chest and was picking away at his heart. Despite being known for talking too much, Wade never knew words could hurt this badly. And now he wanted to hurt Peter with his words. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to hurt Peter the way Peter hurt him. So maybe Peter was right, maybe he was the type for petty revenge. 

“Peter.” Wade was shocked at how dark his voice got. But when your world darkens, then your voice must too, “You little piece of shit! You're saying all this bullshit like I haven't thought of it myself! 'oh how could you' 'do you even feel guilty?' Of course I do! And you know what? How could _you!?_ How can you just stand there and make all these fucking assumptions without even giving it second thought!? And don't you mean how could I throw it all away after how hard _you_ worked?!”

Peter stared at him in shock, but he wasn't satisfied yet, “W-Wade, what are you-”

“What am I talking about!? Peter, think back for a sec, when in my god damn life did I ever ask to be changed!? I never asked for your help! I never asked for any of this! All I wanted was a fucking place to stay so my ass wouldn't get wet every time it rained outside. I'm a killer, Peter. It's what I do. So yes, I killed those men. But not without a pretty damn good reason. So sorry to disappoint the goodie two shoes Spiderman, but Deadpool is a killer and that's all I'll ever be. I'm not a hero.” Wade got so close to Peter that he had to look down at him, and for the first time Wade use his nickname with no affection behind it, “Sorry baby boy, but your experiment failed.”

Everything went dead silent. The only noise that could be heard was both their angered breathing. With each breath they struggled to suck in, they released with hate. Peter was too quick for Wade to realize, but in a short second he had reached up and pulled off Wade's mask. He gripped it tightly in his hand, holding it by his side, “Who are you?” Peter growled, “Are you Wade Wilson? Or are you Deadpool? Because one of them is a good person, and the other is scum. So pick. Right now. Who are you?” Peter held up Wade's mask in front of him and Wade just stared at it. 

{Take the mask.}

He hesitated. 

[Fuck Peter, we don't fucking need him, take the fucking mask!]

{Do it, we are scum and that's all we'll ever be.}

[We're not a good person.]

{We're petty.}

[We're a killer.]

{We're stupid.}

[We're an experiment.]

With an aching chest and heavy hand, Wade snatched his mask from Peter's grip. He muttered two simple words, giving Peter his answer, “I'm Deadpool.” The expression that flash across Peter's face was unreadable yet Wade never wanted to see it again. And based on how things were going, it was a pretty safe guess that that what was going to happen. Peter swiftly turned around on his heals and started marching towards the window without another word. This was it. Peter was getting away. And Wade was letting him. But not without letting him know why. 

“I did it for you!” Wade called after Peter as if he was a great distance away and not just halfway across the living room, “I killed them all for you.” This caused Peter to turn around, the shadow that surrounded him when he first got here returned to darken his body once more. 

“No. You didn't. If you did anything for me then you would have left them alive. You killed them for you own selfish reasons.” Peter's voice stayed calm and monotoned. He sounded scratchy, a side effect from all the yelling, “I want you out of this apartment, I want you out of my life. There's no way in hell I'm housing a killer. It's over, Wade, pack your shit get out.” Peter turned around and continued stalking towards the window. 

“Wha- Peter, wait! You don't understand!” Wade grabbed onto his wrist, preventing him from jumping out the window. While he stood still, Peter never turned around again, “I did it to protect you.” 

“I don't need protection, especially not from you.” Peter snapped back, staring down at the streets below. 

“You didn't hear the things they were saying, Pete! They said they wanted to beat you and hurt you, I couldn't let that happen. They wanted to come after you. They-” Wade gulped, releasing Peter's hand as he bawled his own into fists, “They said they were gonna make you as hideous as I am. I _had_ to kill them.”

“They're right, Deadpool.” Only now did Peter look over his shoulder. He stared into Wade's eyes as he spoke, “You are hideous.” Peter slipped his Spiderman mask on, turning back towards the window, “But I'm not talking about on the outside.” 

Wade didn't know if Peter said anything after that or if that's when he left. Wade didn't care. He stopped listening after Peter said those words. Those words that would forever be in his mind now and Wade cursed himself for paying attention to every detail of that moment. The way Peter's lips shaped and formed into each syllable. The sound of his voice. The lines near his tired eyes. The furrow of his brow. The look in his eyes. How drained they were. How dark they were. How full of hate they were. Over the months they spent together Wade forgot that Spiderman hated Deadpool. And tonight, that's who Wade chose to be. He chose this. He had no one else to blame but himself. But that thought didn't do anything to calm the storm in his mind and chest. Anger pulsed in every vain of his body as his heart pumped out a tortured distress. The normally dull ache of his body intensified as the evening went on and now it seemed unbearable. In a fit of rage, Wade slammed the window shut so hard that the glass cracked. The cracks resembled spider webs. What a cruel irony that was. 

{Good going jackass, you just pushed away the one thing we loved in this world.}

Wade didn't try to hide the growl that erupted in the back of his throat or the cry of agony that came afterwards as he trashed his apartment. First went the TV, tossed and broken on the ground. 

[And there goes the TV. Peter's TV. This is _his_ place, remember? We're trashing his apartment, you're more worthless than I thought.]

“Shut up!” Wade shouted as he rammed his fist into the wall, punching a hole through it. Now that Peter was gone, there would be no way to silence the voices in his head, “I don't need you guys right now!”

[What, just like we don't need Peter?]

{Oh yeah cause we got along just fine without him.}

[Why do you always screw up when it comes to things like this?]

{First Vanessa, now Peter.}

Tears swelled in Wade eyes as he went out and flipped over the couch. He scratched at the cushions like he was some kind of wild animal.

[Or monster.]

“I told you to shut up!” Wade cried again, tossing the pillows that once decorated the sofa against the wall. The pathetic thump that they made did nothing to calm the fire that was controlling his every move. 

{We are a monster. Like in Beauty and the Beast.}

[Yeah, except our story is sick and twisted.]

{There's no such things as happy endings for us.}

Wade hated his voices. He hated what they were saying. He hated it because it was true. Every last word that they put into his head was nothing but the truth. Even as a kid, Wade knew he was never going to have a happy ending. But that never stopped him from getting his hopes up. And if there was one thing that Wade hated the most, it was hope. If he was going to feel hopeful, he'd rather feel nothing at all. Nothing good ever comes from getting your hopes up. After all, the higher you go, the harder you fall. And now that Wade was on the kitchen floor, looking around his trashed apartment. He realized just how hard he fell. The living room was a mess, TV smashed and couch torn up, lamps broken. The kitchen was worse. Cupboards were missing their doors and broken dishes decorated the floor. The table was flipped over and three of the four legs were snapped. And after hitting his head a few times, Wade earned himself a cut right above his eye. With his back leaned against the fridge, he took off his Deadpool mask, holding it loosely in his grip. Wade watched as a mixture of tears and blood dripped onto it. 

{It's disappointing, isn't it?}

Wade sighed, his breath shaking as he didn't fight against talking to himself. After all, there was nobody else here, “What is?”

[That our hero is fraud.]

“What?”

{Spiderman was suppose to be the good guy. Hell, he has turned villains into model citizens. Point is, he gives everyone a second chance.}

[So where the hell is ours?]

“Don't you guys get it? We had a second chance! Fuck, we had so many chances but we fucking blew it!”

{It's funny how we hate pity, yet have no problem pitying ourselves.}

Wade groaned, rubbing his eyes. He didn't want to listen to this. All he wanted to do was feel bad for himself. Sometimes it helped with the pain. 

{Peter never wanted to be with us, he proved it tonight.}

[Remember what he said?]

{We're hideous.}

[We're a horrible person]

{We're petty.}

[We're a killer.]

{We're stupid.}

[We're an experiment.]

Wade bawled a fist over his mouth in an attempt to keep himself from crying. If he was all those things that Peter thought he was, he didn't want to add weak to the list. 

[Oh but we are weak.]

{Just look around. This whole apartment is wrecked because of how pathetic we are.}

[You let yourself get attached to someone that was only going to be trouble for us.]

{We warned you not to get attached.}

[We said not to fall in love with him.]

{You should have listened to us.}

Wade gripped his head, his nails digging into his skull, “I know! Just shut up already!” He was getting fed up with his thought boxes. All they ever did was point out what he's done wrong. What he should have done. But Wade couldn't help but agree with them. He should have never let himself get attached to Peter. Finding him was a bad idea. This whole living arrangement was a bad idea. Coming to New York in the first place was a bad idea. Running away was a bad idea. But running away from his problems, that's Wade's specialty.

{At least Peter is free from us now.}

[We won't hold him back.]

{We won't drag him down.}

[We won't be his mistake anymore.]

{Because that's all we ever are.}

[A mistake.]

{A bad decision.}

[A flaw.]

Wade hugged his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. There was no point in trying to argue. There was no point in trying to block out his voices. Wade just let them talk, only half listening. Everything that they said, everything that they pointed out with hate, Wade already knew. He knew that he was pathetic, he was petty, he was a monster. A monster that deserved to be locked back up in a cage. A monster that deserved to be dissected and ideally killed. He should be tested on. He should be reduced down to nothing more than a science project. Wade knew now that he deserved the label of an experiment and nothing more. Because that's what the world perceived him to be. A test subject. A lab experiment gone wrong. And that's all he'll ever be. Wrong.

With his head against his knees and buried in his arms, Wade cried. He let each sob shake his body and he prepared for each breath to be his last. But it never was. He needed some release, some way to get his mind off of tonight, off of Peter. Conveniently, his phone rang and he answered it with a weak voice. It was a client. A job. A mercenary's job. Without second thought, Wade got up and prepared his weapons, accepting the task. With a numb heart and mind, he left the apartment behind. One would think that after this whole night, Wade would have learned his lesson. But that was the thing. 

Deadpool never learns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only fucking they did was fucking shit up


	26. Chapter 25

Regret was something Peter often felt, it was an emotion he experienced from a young age. Every time he did something that made his parents mad, Peter would deeply regret it. Every time he scored low on a test, he'd regret not studying more. He only developed to completely hate this feeling once uncle Ben died. He regretted fighting with him. He regretted not getting there sooner. He regretted the way he treated everyone once Ben was gone. So now Peter had a battle with regret, he tried to avoid it as much as possible. Did that make him a bit of a shut in? Yes, but it also gave him time to carefully execute his decisions. Regret is always why he believes in second chances. However, tonight Peter had no time to think. He didn't give it a second thought. As soon as he saw Deadpool's number of kills go up, he went straight to Wade's apartment to confront him. And now, as Peter listened to the dull hum of the elevator take him up to the top floor of his home, he finally had the time to reflect on his actions. The sour feeling of regret churned in his stomach, but his chest was numb. Peter was feeling everything yet nothing at the same time. No thoughts occupied his mind, it was just static. But he could hear screaming. He knew his thoughts were yelling at him, begging to be heard. But the buzz that took over Peter's mind was too loud. He couldn't hear his own thoughts. 

The elevator door parted with a ding and he entered his flat. His parents weren't home, tonight was their monthly date night and they probably wouldn't be back until the early morning. Peter was home alone, well, almost alone. 

“Mr. Peter.” Jarvis' voice sounded from the intercom system as Peter lazily slipped off his Spiderman mask and suit, sporting a pair of Adventure Time boxers, “Your blood pressure is elevated and you appear distressed. Shall I contact your doctor? Or perhaps your parents?” 

Peter groaned. He use to find Jarvis' ability to run a full body scan on people as soon as they entered the room amazing, but now it was a nuisance, “I'm fine.” He mumbled as a reply to the AI system that tended to worry about him as much as his parents did. Peter didn't think that was possible, but he's been proven wrong multiple times tonight. 

“You are experiencing high levels of sadness, anger, and stress.” Jarvis' noted as if Peter didn't realize it himself, “May I recommend phoning a loved one?”

Peter scrubbed his face his with hands then looked up at the ceiling, “Jarvis, I really don't need-” 

“Phoning Wade Wilson.”

“Jarvis!” Peter's voice strained, it was overused from all the shouting he did tonight. But that didn't stop him to continue as he panicked, “Hang up right now!” 

“My apologies sir, the line was busy.” 

Peter sighed with relief, but it didn't last long. 

“Would a hologram help instead?” Jarvis offered and before he could refuse, there was a projected 3D holographic picture of Wade. This was a feature of Jarvis that Tony often used down in his lab when inventing new machinery. Since Jarvis also runs full body scans on every being that enters the tower, he's able to record them and later create a holographic image of their person. This was another one of Jarvis' features that Peter found fascinating, and he often used it as a child to project his imaginary friends. Peter would draw a picture and Jarvis would scan it then turn it into a holograph. Naturally, since Peter's pictures weren't alive and moving, the holographic picture never flowed with ease, its actions were often choppy. But to a 5 year old, that didn't matter. But now? Peter hated it. He hated seeing even a holograph of Wade to his left, over by the bar. Yet at the same time he couldn't help but be entranced by it. This empty image of Wade seemed more full of life than the real Wade had been in weeks. Peter found himself slowly approaching Wade. The hologram waved, smiling. And just as he was about to reach out and touch it, the hologram disappeared. Disappointment ripped at Peter's chest. 

“I apologize Mr. Peter, that didn't seem to help at all. I've triggered a negative reaction out of you.” Jarvis stated and it took Peter a moment to realize what it meant. With a shaking hand, he brought it up to his face. His cheeks were damp. He was crying. 

“O-Oh.” That's all Peter could manage to say. He quickly became dizzy and light headed with the rush of emotions he suddenly felt. Peter's throat burned with the need to release his sob as he swiped at his nose to keep it from running. With every thump of his heart, Peter's chest ached. He gasped for a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he took a seat on one of the bar's stools. Peter covered his mouth with one of his hands as he felt tears drip onto it. He had to stop himself from crying. He held himself back the entire time he was at Wade's house, he could hold himself back now. Peter was too stubborn to let himself cry, he's done it too much lately. He wasn't a cryer, or at least, he told himself he wasn't. Especially if people were with him. Crying was weak and Peter refused to be anything but strong, like his dads. He couldn't remember a time where either of his fathers cried. Steve was always so calm and collected, it was rare for him to even get mad. And Tony, while his temper was a bit less managed than Steve's, crying wasn't something he was capable of. Ever since Peter was a little boy, all he wanted to be was like his dads and after a little debating, he couldn't deny that it was still true to this day. His fathers were heroes. He was a hero. And heroes don't cry. 

Peter propped his elbows up against the bar's counter top and buried his head in his hands. He hissed at the wetness of his cheeks. The tightness of his chest squeezed at his heart, it felt as if it was going to beat right out of body. Peter shuttered as he suppressed another sob, his throat searing with the feeling of choking back his cries. But the one thing that Peter couldn't hold back or conceal, the one thing that was uncontrollable for him was his own thoughts. He couldn't stop his mind from thinking, from rummaging through the memories of tonight's events. Just a few hours ago he was downstairs in the Stark labs with Bruce, they were on the brink of a scientific discovery. But now Peter was on the brink of a meltdown, and he didn't even get the blood sample Bruce needed. 

“St-Stupid Bruce, stupid drug, stupid blood, stupid-” Peter's breath hitched as he mumbled to himself, “-stupid Wade.” His hands turned into fist against his face at the mention of Wade's name. It was true, though, Wade was incredibly stupid. He made that clear tonight and Peter was sure to tell him that. 

Peter mentally slapped himself every time he found himself thinking about Wade, which to his disappointment was quite often. He reminded himself that Wade was a killer, a murderer. These two thoughts alone should have been enough to eliminate the ache in his chest. It should have been enough to convince him that Wade was in the wrong and all that he said tonight was for Wade's own good. That Wade deserved it. And yet, Peter still felt that sinking feeling of regret. But the worst part was that he didn't know exactly what he regretted. His words? His actions? He couldn't place his finger on it. Maybe he regretted everything. Peter shook his head at that thought. No, he didn't regret anything. He couldn't. He did what had to be done. Wade killed those Weapon-X agents, Wade damaged Peter's reputation, Wade proceeded to lie to him for weeks pretending that nothing was wrong. Oh but something was. Something was very, very wrong. And Peter was too much of an idiot to realize it sooner. He should have gone back every time to check on the men he webbed up. He should have been the one watching over the bad guys instead of waiting outside with the victim. He never should have trusted Wade alone with the Weapon-X agents. He never should have trusted Wade at all. 

A sob slipped from Peter's lips as soon as that thought raked his brain. He was conflicted. While he told himself that he never should have trusted Wade, there was a part of him that still did even now. Peter hated that he let this one action define Wade because there was so many other things that Wade did to prove himself. But then he screwed it all up by killing people, even if they weren't innocent it was still 21 lives gone. It's not that Peter didn't trust Wade, it's more that he couldn't trust him. Peter couldn't allow himself to trust Wade anymore, and yet he knew that he still did. If he were to put his life in someone's hands, in a heart beat he would choose Wade. He would choose the hands of a mercenary. How twisted was that? But then again, that was the problem with Wade. Ever since the beginning, no matter how much Peter wanted to hate him, he never did. He never hated _Wade_. Wade isn't the bad guy, Deadpool is. And Peter had to remind himself that that's who Wade chose to be. Tonight, he made the choice to be Deadpool rather than Wade Wilson. This thought didn't settle well with Peter because a little part of him, the pathetic self loathing weak little part of him, felt as if Wade chose Deadpool over him. 

Peter wasn't aware of when he broke, he barely realized he started to cry at all. But sooner than he knew it, Peter found himself with his arms folded on the bar's counter and his head resting on top as they worked miracles to muffle the sound of his sobs. Peter's eyes burned every time he blinked as his tears seared against his flushed cheeks. He couldn't hold himself back any longer, nor did he try to, he let himself cry. He let himself break. He let himself hurt. Peter hoped it would have been the release he was searching for. That after all this crying, he would feel better. That his head would clear. That he would realize that he made the right decisions tonight. But the more time that past, the foggier Peter's mind got, the heavier his heart felt, and the quicker the numb feeling over took him. Peter's chest ached so much and he felt so full, that he was empty. He was an anchor at the bottom of the sea, attached to the surface only by a heavy chain. He could not swim up. He could not float. The surface was there, taunting him, yet the only way he would ever be able to reach it was if someone pulled him up. For a while, Peter thought Wade was the one who surfaced him, until his grip slipped. And Peter stood still, wondering why Wade stopped pulling. That's when Peter noticed, on the surface, the water was a different colour. It was darker, it was storming. And around Wade, it wasn't blue at all. It was a deep red. And then, Peter sank. His once peaceful waters became thick and heavy and he sank faster than he was risen up. Now the chain wasn't the only thing that was weighing him down as he hit rock bottom. 

Peter was getting desperate. He didn't know how much time had past or how long he has been sitting here feeling like this, but he knew it was too long. Peter lifted his heavy head up to look around although his eyes were red and swollen. His bottom lip quivered with every breath he took and the more he moved, the more his heart throbbed painfully. Peter's need for escape was monstrous, he couldn't stand this feeling anymore. He just wanted to feel some sort of release, but he had no energy to do the activities that normally allowed him to be freed from his reality. Tinkering, web-slinging, even reading seemed to be a task too difficult for Peter right now. He needed a quick escaped, something that allowed him to feel less heavy. That's when it hit him, or rather, that's when he hit it. Peter's hand moved and knocked against something cold. It was a bottle of Tony's alcohol. 

Peter knew it was a bad idea. The kid inside of him warned him not to do it, drinking is bad, blah blah blah. But he didn't want to listen. Normally Peter wouldn't have been tempted, hell, to him most alcohols still smelled disgusting. But he remembered that time when he was in grade four, he had to do a project on his dad. He followed Tony around for a week, asking him all kinds of questions. And the one that was stuck in Peter's head now, all these years later, was when he asked Tony why he drank. They had been sitting on the couch watching Peter Pan; it was just the two of them since Steve was out on a mission. Tony was drinking scotch. 9 year old Peter asked him why he drank that stuff, it seemed like an important part of his dad's life so it should go in the project. He never forgot what Tony answered. He said he drank because it made him feel happy. When the world got too heavy, this drink made him feel a little lighter. To a 9 year old it didn't make much sense, but now that he was 19, Peter understood. He understood the feeling of having so much weight on your shoulders that it feels like your legs might give out under you. Peter knew the desperation for wanting the heartache to end. And that's why he did it, that's why Peter popped off the cap of the bottle.   
`  
“Mr. Peter.” Jarvis spoke up, “I advise against doing that. You are underage.”

“Shut up Jarvis.” Peter muttered, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a drink.

~~

“This is why we can't go to nice places, Steve.” Tony complained as he and his husband entered the tower and made their way to the elevator, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was now one in the morning and they were just getting home from their date.

“Well sorry I don't like having my dessert set on fire.” Steve countered but knew it was no match for his shorter partner, Tony always had a come back. 

“It's Baked Alaska! It's how its cooked!” 

“I didn't know that!” At Steve's helpless defense, Tony laughed and dropped his act of mock anger. It's been a while since Steve had been in the modern world, but he was still hopelessly lost at times. Tony made a mental note to not order anything that involved a blow torch anymore, which pretty much ruled out crème brulé. 

“You're adorable when you're clueless.” He smirked, eyeing his husband from the side and giving him a playful nudge. 

“Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers?” Jarvis' voice echoed within the elevator, interrupting their moment before it could go any further, “I should warn you, something appears to be wrong with Peter.” 

The atmosphere of fun and relaxation dissipated as quickly as it was forming. Both husbands were on high alert now. Steve spoke first, “Is he alright? Is he hurt?” 

“Did you run a full body scan on him?” Tony asked before Jarvis could answer either one of their questions, “How are his vitals? Blood pressure? Any injuries?” 

“He does not appear to have any physical injuries, but he has not expressed what is the matter.”

“Weird, I always thought Peter would be the type of kid to spill his feelings to an AI system.” Tony commented, his voice heavy with sarcasm. This earned him an elbow in his side and a scolding from Steve. Finally, after was seemed like the longest elevator ride of their lives, the doors parted open and the worried fathers rushed into their home. With just a quick scan, Peter was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the living room or on the ceilings. Steve rushed to check Peter's room as Tony hurried to the kitchen. It was only when they met back in the main area did Tony spot their son. His eyes widened as he hesitantly tapped his husband on the shoulder. 

“Uh, Steve?” Tony pointed and Steve turned around. Now both fathers were staring at their son who was sitting on the floor, his back against the inside of the bar, a thick blanket draped around his shoulders. 

“Peter!” Steve called out and dashed towards the bar, Tony followed closely behind him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the reason why Peter was laying beside a half empty bottle of liquor was because he drank it. Tony knew Steve wasn't going to react well to this, “Peter did you- did you drink that?” Steve pointed to the forgotten bottle, but Peter never looked up or uncurled from his position, “Peter, that was incredibly irresponsible. What were you think-”

“Steve.” Tony placed a hand on his husband's broad shoulder, for once he was the one who had to warn the other to stop talking. With a simple gesture, Steve moved out of the way as Tony went and crouched beside his son. Only from this position could he finally hear Peter's muffled crying, “Hey Squirt,” Tony started, trying his best to muster up a soothing voice. Comforting wasn't his strong point, but he knew he was the best to deal with this situation, Tony understood. It's not that he knew what drove Peter to this point, but he knew what it was like to be driven to drink. And he couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt, thinking that this might be because of his own influence despite getting better with his drinking habit. Tony started to drink from a very young age, younger than Peter was now, but he did not want his son to do the same. 

“Just know that we're not mad at you,” Tony continued and ushered for Steve to join them on the floor. In an instant, the husbands were crouched by their son's side, “But we have to know if you drank this. We need to know if you're okay, Peter.” Both Steve and Tony knew that alcohol could have a negative affect on Peter. Because of his unnatural abilities, Peter is prone to be very sensitive to alcohol. Just like Steve can't get drunk, Peter can get drunk more easily than most. But Peter just whimpered in response and lightly shook his head. Tony exchanged a glance with Steve, neither of them were sure if that was a no that he didn't drink, or a no that he wasn't okay. But if was safe to assume the answer to both. Tony picked up the bottle and set it back on the counter, he then noticed that in Peter's curled up posture, he was clutching something to his chest. Tony pointed it out to Steve and, now with his past anger gone, Steve spoke calmly and gently.

“Peter, sweetie, what are you holding?” He reached out towards his son, attempting to pry his hands open but Peter flinched and pulled away, his sobs growing louder. His hands held onto whatever object was in them with dear life, his knuckles turning slightly white. Steve placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, turning him back towards him and Tony, “Peter, please show us what's in your hand.” 

At his father's words, Peter slowly opened his hands. Inside, he was holding a dead flower. 

Tony was the first to react, confused as anything, “What the hell is that?” 

Steve, on the other hand, wasn't confused at all. He recognized this wilted flower from the time he first caught Peter playing with it. Steve's concern only seemed to grow from here. Why was Peter holding this flower? He had a pretty good guess, but didn't want to jump to conclusions. His worry quickly melted into sympathy. Their son was hurting, they had to do something. 

“C'mon Peter, let's get you off the floor.” Steve scooped up his son in his arms with ease and couldn't help but feel paranoid that Peter felt lighter. He brought Peter over to the couch and Tony followed behind them. While carrying their son, Steve couldn't help but observe Peter's blanket. It wasn't one he recognized, and it smelt like gun powder and musk. And lastly, sown on this mysterious blanket was the word _SpideyPool._ Steve had a pretty good guess on where this blanket came from, but he feared the answer. 

Peter clung tightly onto his father's shirt, his face buried against his chest as he didn't bother to try and cover his sobs anymore. Both Steve's and Tony's hearts ached at the sound of Peter's relentless crying. But when he spoke, it planted the final dagger in Steve's chest. 

“I'm s-sorry Papa.” Peter sobbed although his voice was faint. Steve hasn't heard Peter call him 'Papa' since he was a little boy. He was 10 when he stopped calling Steve Papa and started using Pops, but now in Peter's time of insecurity, the nickname came back. It was almost painful to hear, but it just let Steve know how much Peter needed his parents right now. 

They all sat down on the couch, Steve still held Peter close in his arms and rocked him against his chest. Tony rubbed Peter's leg soothingly as Peter himself practically clawed at Steve's chest in an attempt to be closer, to hold him tighter. Tony exchanged a worried glance with Steve as their eyes landed back on their broken son. They never seen him cry this hard in a while, if ever. 

“Shhhh,” Steve hushed Peter, kissing the top of his head, “baby, it's alright.”

“You gotta calm yourself down before you hurt yourself, Peter.” Tony added, wanting nothing more than to stop the tears leaking from Peter's eyes. But they just kept spilling out. Tony sighed, “What happened to him, Steve?” It was a pointless question, Tony knew that neither of them knew what went on. It killed him inside that he failed to protect his son from something that caused him this much pain. He swore to himself silently that whatever or whoever did this was never going to step foot near Peter again. And despite his question being directed at Steve, both parents were shocked when Peter tried to answer.

“W-Wade, he- he-” Peter hiccuped, his jaw clenching and his expression twisted into a pained look. It's as if the words physically hurt him to say. At his son's distress, Tony's hand stopped rubbing his leg and his grip tightened around Peter's knee. 

“Tony.” Steve's warning did nothing to calm his husband. It past through his ears like it was yesterdays news. Tony felt his grip flexing on his son's leg, despite his anger he had to be conscious to not hurt Peter.

“What did Wade do?” The harshness in his voice surprised Tony, but it matched the resentment he felt inside perfectly. When Peter didn't answer, he asked again, “Peter what the hell did Wade do?”

Peter took a moment or two before he answered, he could barely breath let alone talk. His face was still buried in Steve's chest and there was no doubt that Steve's clean shirt was a mess now.

“He- killed. He's been kill-killing-” Peter's voice broke as he gulped for air, his body shaking in Steve's arms with every sob or wail, “He didn't tell me, he- he lied!”

Steve began stroking Peter's head and he cringed once he asked, “Do you- Do you know how many people he, uh, you know-”

“-Killed?” Tony finished for Steve, he was the only one who didn't seem to have a problem with that word. Peter nodded into Steve's chest and snivelled.

“21.” His voice was barely audible as he answered, his grip tightened around the bunched up fabric of Steve's shirt he had clenched in his fist. Steve groaned and leaned his head back against the couch.

“Oh Wade.” 

“You- you were right D-Dad,” Peter cried. Once he opened up, he wasn't able to stop. But this time, Peter turned his head slightly so his eyes were now visible to Tony. They were red, swollen, and still swelling with tears. Tony's heart broke at the sight and even more so at his son's words, “I never should have trusted him.”

“Peter...” Tony didn't know what to say other than his son's name. How was he suppose to react to that? Sure he never trusted Deadpool in the first place, he never wanted Peter near that man -if he was even that- to begin with. But seeing how much Peter cared for the merc, and how much Peter was hurting now, a part of Tony wishes he could take it all back.

“I-I'm sorry I didn't listen, I'm sor-sorry I'm sorry I'msor-ry I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry,” Peter started blubbering, his head shaking as he was unable to stop apologizing. Steve did his best to sooth Peter, rocking him back and forth, stroking his head, all while giving a lecturing glare to his husband. Tony could only watch with dismay at the mess his son was and settled with the knowledge that part of it was his fault. He didn't want Peter to feel guilty for his own reasons to hate Deadpool. He never knew it affected Peter this much. 

“You don't have to be sorry, Squirt, you have nothing to apologize for.” Tony tried his best to comfort Peter, going back to rubbing his leg. It did nothing to silence his sobs.

“I should have listened I should have listened I- I- it's just- it's not fair!” Peter wailed, his head now shaking violently from side to side. At this action, Steve placed a gentle hand on the side of Peter's head, trying to get him to stop shaking it before he hurt himself. Steve pressed his son's head against his chest closely. Peter listened to the rapid beating of his father's heart and it seemed to have calmed him a little, his voice growing quieter, “It wasn't suppose to happen like this.”

“What wasn't suppose to happen?” Steve asked, coaching Peter to continue as he stroked his damp cheek with his thumb. 

“W-Wade he- I- I wasn't suppose to- it wasn't a part of the plan!” Peter's voice raised and his grip stiffened, “We were only gonna team up, I didn't- I wasn't suppose to love him! Not him!” Peter was near screaming now as the husbands exchanged a look of shock. Peter wasn't one to throw around the word 'love' too often, he barely used it at all except for his family, “W-Why..” He continued, looking at both his parents now, “Why do I- I don't want to- he- He wasn't suppose to be the one. It was suppose to be G-Gwen or- or someone else, _anyone_ else, but not Wade.” Peter's grip on Steve's shirt finally loosened as he now stared down at his hands, proceeding to bury his face in them and shake his head lightly, “Why do I love him?”

Another look of worry was passed between the husbands as they both knew Peter was asking this question seriously. Both Steve and Tony wished they could give Peter some sort of answer. Some sort of philosophical answer about love and patience and destiny and shit like that, but neither of them knew how to word it. Neither of them knew what to tell their son, begging for clarity as to why he developed feelings for a being as awful as Deadpool. Peter needed a reason to hate Wade again, and normally this would be Tony's time to shine. He has a million reasons to hate Deadpool. But that was the thing, they weren't talking about Deadpool, they were talking about Wade. Tony knew now that there was a difference. 

Peter felt lost at his fathers' silences. They knew the answer as well as Peter did, meaning they didn't know at all. And Peter felt betrayed. Not by his fathers. Not even by Wade anymore. But by himself. He blind sided himself. He tricked himself. He lied to himself. At the very beginning, Peter took pity on Wade. He let him stay in his future apartment because of how sad Wade was not only as a person, but as an existence. Peter got obsessed with idea of saving him. It haunted his thoughts every day and every time that he looked at Wade, he saw someone who was in trouble. Peter wanted to be a hero, his hero. And all this time, he thought it was Wade who was the lonely one. He thought Wade was the one who was lost. He thought Wade was the question who was desperately searching for an answer. He thought Wade was the one who needed to be saved. But then Wade said that he never asked for this, any of it. And that's when Peter knew that if he just took a moment, just a single moment to stop and look at himself in the mirror, he would have found all he thought Wade was, in himself. Peter was the lonely one. Peter was the lost one. Peter was the one in need of a hero. And he took that all out on Wade. He never realized it before, but this whole time he was trying to shape Wade into the hero he needed, not the hero Wade wanted to be. And that was incredibly selfish. Peter knew that now. He wasn't some sort of superhero, he wasn't anything like his fathers, he was selfish. Just a selfish little boy. 

Peter gasped for breath as he was doused with something cool. Water now dripped from his face as he looked around, shocked. He was sitting on the couch, Steve no longer holding him but rather just next to him. Tony was in front of Peter, holding an empty glass. Both of their faces were etched with worry and their eyes carried concern. Steve set his hands on Peter's shoulders and turned him so he could see his son's face.

“Peter, are you alright!?” Steve shouted, but the ringing in Peter's ear turned down the volume of his father's voice. Peter just stared at his Pops with a confused expression. Why was he shouting? And why did they splash him with water? At his son's puzzlement, Steve continued, “You became unresponsive Peter. Tony, go get him some more water.”

At the request, Tony quickly scrambled back to the kitchen to retrieve yet another glass of water. Hopefully this time Peter would actually be able to drink it. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that he was dehydrated after all the crying he's done tonight. Only now did he pay attention to the wave of exhaustion that took over him and the dizziness that swarmed his mind. With one sloppy movement, Peter slumped against Steve's shoulder as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Tony returned moments later with a full cup of water and carefully held it to Peter's lips. But Peter barely noticed it.

“C'mon Squirt, you gotta drink something.” He never heard his dad's voice hold such desperation before. Peter gave into the chilling liquid that teased his lips. He gulped down the water that soothed his aching throat in a few seconds, swiping at his mouth to catch any drips once he was done. Peter tried to lift up his head, he tried to sit up, but his body was too heavy. 

“Let's get you to bed sweetheart.” Steve's comforting voice filled Peter's ears and before he knew it, Peter was being carried to his room and tucked into his bed. He wasn't aware if it was the alcohol in his system that was making him feel this tired or from god knows how long he just spent crying. And frankly, Peter couldn't say that he gave a fuck. To him, all he knew was the warmth of his bed and calming words of his fathers as they both wished him goodnight. Peter was then left alone with nothing but the silence of his room and the dull buzz of his mind. He snuggled himself deeper into the blanket he was wrapped up in and within minutes, Peter fell asleep to the scent of gun powder and musk. 

~~

Peter woke up at four in the morning with a pounding headache. Sitting up, he rubbed at his temples and squinted his eyes, trying to see in the dark. With a groan, Peter got out of bed and crawled along the hallway walls to get to the living room. Steve and Tony were still in bed and Peter had no intention of waking them up. With a quiet thump, Peter jumped from his place on the wall and landed on the living room floor. He silently made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but before he even took two steps, he noticed something on the floor. Tip toeing over to the bar, Peter picked up the mysterious object. Not a second later, he realized what it was. A dead flower. And just like that, all of his past emotions from tonight came rushing back and his hands started to shake. Even without his super strength, Peter would easily be able to crush the wilted plant in his grasp. But he couldn't. His hand wasn't allowing him to. The longer Peter stared at the flower, the more his sadness and anger threatened to come back. He couldn't go through that again, not twice in one night. He had to get out. He had to clear his head. His room, this entire house, was becoming too small. Peter couldn't stand to be cooped up. He had to escape. He had to breathe. 

Web-slinging.

He had to go web-slinging.

Peter didn't bother to silence his footsteps again as he ran back to his room, his thirst long forgotten. The need to be free was much greater than his need for water and sleep combined. He slickly slipped into his Spiderman suit, and just like that, Peter ran back to the living room and climbed out the window. He was free to swing into the night, shooting webs without a care, not needing to look out for danger. Or so he thought. But going web-slinging with a hangover was much like driving with one. Your headache becomes ten times worse, your vision blurs and your thoughts fog over. Except now put your car 50 feet in the air. That's what Peter felt like. And web-slinging took just as much concentration, if not more, than driving. And that's probably why, in his dazed state, Peter didn't notice when something shot up and cut his web. He came tumbling down and landed on a lower rooftop with a hard thump and crack. He sat up and rubbed his aching head, he didn't think anything was broken. 

“Ugh, what happened?” Peter mumbled to himself, looking around. No one was there. With a grunt, Peter forced his sore body to stand up to take a look at his surrounding. Without even realizing it, he had swung all the way to Wade's place and was now standing on top of the roof of his apartment, “Shit.” He cursed and with deciding that he had no business here, he jumped from the roof. If Peter let himself fall that far on purpose, he would never know, but while falling he passed by the window to Wade's -well technically his own- apartment. He only got a quick look, but Peter could tell it was wrecked. It took him a few seconds to react, but with a twist of his body he shot his web upwards and attached it to Wade's windowsill. 

“What...the..fuck..” Peter whispered to himself as he climbed his was back up and opened Wade's window. It wasn't locked. He crawled into the darkened apartment and looked around with shock. It was a mess. The TV was smashed and the couch was flipped over, not to mention there was a hole in the wall right above where the TV should be. Peter carefully and quietly stepped over the mess of debris as he made his way to the kitchen. It was probably the worse of the two rooms. The table was flipped over and missing three of its legs. Cupboard doors were broken and some got completely ripped off. Broken dishes were everywhere and Peter had to be careful not to cut himself with every step he took. The longer Peter stood inside the apartment, the harder it became to fight off the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

Did Wade do this?

Or did someone else?

“W-Wade?” Peter called out, unsure if he wanted someone to answer or not. If Wade did answer, then he would tell Wade that he just stopped by to see if he was gone yet. And if no one answered, well, Peter wasn't sure what he was going to do. 

There was no answer. 

Peter went to check the bedroom, there was no one in there either. The bathroom was vacant as well. Just when he was about to reach full panic mode, he heard a crash come from the living room. An unknown sigh of relief wash over him as Peter ran back to the main living area, “Wade, Jesus Christ you scared....me...” Peter's voice faded out as he stared in shock around the room, “You're not Wade.” He pointed lamely, more for himself than for the 7 large men standing around the room. They were dressed in all black and Peter recognized one of them. The Weapon-X agent that slipped away the night of Nick Norton's kidnapping, the one Wade nicknamed Fucker #4. Peter figured it was safe to assume the rest of the near identical men were also from Weapon-X.

“Neither are you.” One of the men huffed. With his darker skin and black outfit, he was nearly impossible to see in the night of the apartment. Only his wicked white grin gave away his location, “But you'll have to do.”

“Now listen fellas,” Peter put on his best casual funny Spiderman voice, not wanting to let the men know that he was near the point of shitting his pants terrified, “I don't want any trouble, and I'm sure that you-” He stop short as his spidey-sense went off, but before he could even turn around, a sharp pain burned in his neck as he yelped. All the men chuckled darkly, including the one that snuck up on Peter and stabbed a needle in his neck. As Peter started to sway, he didn't feel so good. 

“Alright men, leave a note for Wilson that we capture his little friend. Troy, Brad, grab the spider.” Fucker #4 barked orders and the two men closest to Peter lunged at him. Peter, even in his drugged up state, made a pathetic attempt to fight back. He swung his fist pitifully at one of the men, but he didn't even land a hit before he tripped over his own two feet and landed directly in, we'll call him Fucker #6's, arms. 

“Heh,” Fucker #7, the man standing behind Peter, laughed, “That was easier than I thought.”

Peter's vision started to blacken as he struggled against the Weapon-X agents' grips, but it was no use. Without full consciousness, his super strength and agility rendered useless. As Peter's sight finally turned to all black and the men carried him away, his last thought was on the irony of tonight. 

Now he really was in need of a hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero till the morning light


	27. Chapter 26

{Well this is just fucking great.}

[Now we're cold, wet, and homeless.]

“At least we're not hungry.” Wade pointed out, being the odd optimistic one out of the three of them. He took a bite out of his hotdog. To Wade, it wasn't a horrible end to his day. He had just gotten back from the mercenary job he accepted almost 24 hours ago. It was a local job, some stupid group of vigilantes needed a good spanking from their mommies. They were just young, not completely horrible kids. And that's why Wade had only half the money he was promised. He didn't go all the way, he didn't kill them. He couldn't kill them. They were just kids. And now Wade had no place to go. He couldn't go back to his apartment, well, Peter's apartment. Well, he could, but he didn't want to. Not just yet. So to buy himself some time on the way “home” Wade stopped and got himself a hotdog. And that's how he ended up here, on the roof of some building, sitting in the rain, eating a soggy dog. The only company he had were the late night drunk pedestrians and the voices in his head. 

{Look at that, an honourable mention.}

[Honourable mention my ass, maybe we should worry about where the fuck we're gonna stay now?]

“Well, there's always the warehouse a few cities over that I've been hinting at for this entire fanfiction but has yet to play a major role.”

{It never was going to play a major role.}

[But it may be our best bet now, but what about Weapon-X?]

“What about them?” Wade grumbled, munching on his barbecued wiener friend. Why did White Box always have to put a downer on the mood?

[Just because Peter fucking hates us now doesn't mean that our problems are magically gonna disappear. The motherfuckers from Weapon-X are still trying to hunt us down. The kidnappings are still gonna happen. And knowing Peter, the fucker's gonna try and stop them all by himself.]

Wade groaned, knowing his thought boxes were right, “Geez, we can't afford a couple of plot holes?”

{No, those are the worst. We have enough already.}

“We do?”

{Well...yeah. We may not realize them now, but five months after this fanfic is done they're gonna dawn on us, by then it'll be too late.}

“Fine. But Peter's not my fucking problem anymore. I don't gotta look out for him, I'm not a fucking babysitter.” 

[Do you really trust Peter could go up against Weapon-X agents all by himself.]

Wade didn't have to ponder on this thought for long. He quickly gave in with a sigh, “No...so what do we do?”

{Well first we gotta get our stuff from the apartment.}

[Then we find a new residence, ideally still in the city.]

{Keep track on the kidnappings and on Peter.}

[And get there before he does.]

{Repeat steps 1-4 as often as needed.}

“Alright.” Wade clasped his hands together, his hotdog long gone now, “So basically stalk the shit out of Peter without getting caught. I can do that.”

{Are you sure?}

“Bitch please, I've done it so many times before.” He stood up, pretending to dust himself off. But there was no need, the rain was washing away any blood that was left on him from the mission. 

[Drop the confidence act.]

Wade froze for a second, there was no tricking his own mind. He exhaled softly, his shoulders dropping, “Can't trick you guys, can I?”

{We're your own mind.}

[We know you better than you know yourself.]

{And we know that you're fucking terrified.}

[Seeing Peter again will hurt, even if it's just from a distance.]

{We won't be able to talk to him.}

[Or touch him.]

{Or ever hear his voice again.}

[We can't listen to him laugh]

{Or complain}

[And his smile is always going to be a blurred slit in our memory] 

{Peter's probably gonna forget we even exist, all while we're never gonna be more than a couple yards away from him.}

“Okay guys, I get it.” Wade spoke before his thoughts could go on, “I'm gonna have to be just like a ghost to him. I'm gonna have to watch him fucking go through life and find someone else to love and shit while I sit in the shadows like a lonely motherfucker, I know.”

{It hurts, doesn't it?}

“Yes!” Wade laughed in disbelief, shaking his head at himself, “Yes it fucking hurts. It hurt then, it hurts now, and it's going to hurt in the future.”

[You can't escape the pain.]

“No shit Sherlock, I've never been able to and I never expect to be able to. So how about you stop bringing it up?”

{Well, Peter did help ease the pain.}

“Okay, that's it! Can you just shut the fuck up about him!?” Wade exploded, unable to take it anymore, “I'm sick of Peter! I'm over him! I'm tired of hearing his fucking name every two fucking seconds! I never wanna hear from that little shit again!”

Wade's phone rang. 

{Wow our second conveniently timed phone call.}

[And speak of the devil.] 

“What are you- oh.” Wade got out his phone and read the contact name. 

Peter.

After a moment's reaction time, Wade had to act. His phone fumbled around in his hands, all knowledge he had about hand coordination suddenly disappeared as he was barely able to hold his phone in the first place. Peter was calling him. And Wade didn't think twice about answering. 

“H-Hello?” 

{Hello? Really? That's the smoothest thing we could come up with?}

[Peter's probably just calling to yell at us.]

“Wade?” That wasn't Peter's voice. It was Steve's voice. Why the hell was Captain America calling from Peter's cellphone? 

“Uhhh, yeah?” 

“Wade, is Peter with you? He hasn't been home all day.” Steve's voice held uncertainty. With every word he said he would second guess himself as if he wasn't sure he should be calling at all. 

Wade's stomach flipped at Steve's question. 

“Wha-What time did he leave?” He tried to keep his rising panic under control, automatically was fearing the worst. 

“We think he snuck out some time last night. Is he at your apartment or not?” 

Shit. 

The apartment. 

“I-I don't- I dunno.” Wade stuttered helplessly, already running back to the apartment, “I'll find out.”

“Wade-”

Wade hung up before Steve could finish. Peter's over protective parents weren't important right now, it was over protective boyfriend time. To Wade, nothing else mattered but finding Peter. Best case scenario would be that Peter was back at the apartment waiting to scold the shit out of him, so that's what Wade prayed for. He hoped Peter would be there. He hoped that his baby boy would yell and shout and scream at him for everything he's ever done wrong. He wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear Peter's voice, even if angry, so that way WAde would know he was alright. It would mean that Peter is in fact waiting at home for him. And if Peter was, Wade knew he would get quite the talking to. The apartment was trashed and not even an hour after their fight, he went out on a mercenary job. He was an idiot. A complete fucking idiot. And Wade wanted Peter to yell at him for it. 

It didn't take long for Wade to arrive back home, it was a 15 minute run tops. He jumped and landed on the roof of his building with a quiet thump, mercenaries had to be light on their feet. They also had to have a sharp eye, so that's why he noticed something near the edge of the rooftop. A spider web was flowing in the wind. Wade would recognize that spider web anywhere. 

“Please be here, please be here.” Wade whispered to himself as he used the string of web to slide down to his apartment's window. It was open. Spidey had definitely been here. Whether he was still here was a different question, “Please please please please please.” Wade climbed through the window and slid into his living room. It was just as he left it, “Peter!? Peter are you here!?” He skipped the quiet whispering part and went straight to the panicked yelling. Normally he would have been more rational about this. Maybe Peter was just at his Aunt May's, or visiting a friend, or at work. But his parents would have known if he was in any of those places. They probably would have checked there first. So for Steve to be calling Wade, they must have been really desperate. 

The silence Wade usually prayed for was now sickening. Nobody answered. It was time for a deep investigation of the whole apartment. The first thing he noticed was his door. It was closed, but the frame was cracked and the door itself was unlocked. That wasn't right, Wade always had his door locked. Someone broke in, and he knew it wasn't Peter. Peter always used the window. 

Wade's heart sank into his stomach. 

With an abrupt turn, he noticed something on the kitchen counter. It was a pink slip of paper.

{Dammit. Did our car get towed again?}

[We don't have a car.]

“This isn't the time for jokes.” Wade growled and jumped over the broken table to get to the other side of his kitchen. With finicky hands, he picked up and unfolded the piece of paper. It would be getting his hopes up too high to think that Peter just left him a note to say he stopped by. 

Wade read the note. 

_Wade,_   
_You have our deepest apologies for not being able to_  
 _kidnap you more efficiently. In fact, we weren't able_  
 _to catch you at all. Your friend, however, was much easier._  
 _Not to sound like a ransom note, but if you don't give yourself up_  
 _we can't promise good things for Spiderman._  
 _You have three days to give yourself in but_  
 _the longer you wait, the worse it gets for Spidey._  
 _Come unarmed._  
 _Signed- Your Friends From Weapon-X_

Wade didn't try to silence his chafed cry as he crumbled up the piece of paper and chucked it against the wall, “Those motherfuckers! Those- Those crusty shit bag fuck faces!” he panted in no attempt to catch his breath, but to simmer the anger inside him. Those two face cock goblins gone too far this time, “Haven't you taken enough from me!?” Wade shouted at no one, but acted like Weapon-X could hear him anyway, “Guns. I need my fucking guns!” He scrambled to get his ammo bags, but the voices in head stopped him.

[They said no weapons.]

{Are we seriously going to listen to them?}

“Fuck no!”

[Think about what they'll do to Peter. If we bring weapons, it'll be ten times worse.]

Wade paused in his mass hysteria, his thought box might have a point. He fucking hated when they made sense. In a split second, Wade went from being outraged to mangled. On one hand, if he brought his weapons then that could seriously end bad for Peter, but on the other hand, if he didn't bring his weapons then he had no sure way to fuck up the bad guys. But Wade had no time to be indecisive. He had already been gone a day, he couldn't imagine what they had already done to Peter. He had to make a decision now. Meeting his problem in the middle, Wade slipped one gun into the boot of his Deadpool costume. He picked up the crumpled note and smoothed it out as best he could, reading the address that was printed on the back. That was where he needed to go. That's where the bastards took Peter. And that's where those same bastards were going to breathe their last breath. Wade would make sure of it. 

{And why's that?}

Wade chuckled darkly, knowing his thought box was just taunting him to say it.

“Because I'm motherfucking Deadpool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Walldo


	28. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a slight warning here, this chapter is really violent and deals with sexual harassment...enjoy.

Peter swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, wiping away the blood that dripped from it as his body shook with another painful cough. Bruises covered him from head to toe as each of his muscles ached when he moved. But Peter couldn't stop fighting. He wasn't allowed to. 

“Get up.” The deep voice of one of Peter's opponents barked at him. And although the words encouraged him to get up from the cement floor, a foot forced him back down again, kicking his rib and knocking him on his side. Peter didn't know where the Weapon-X agents had taken him, he was blacked out for most of the ride. He could only guess that it was one of their operation bases. It was a one floor room, but very large and windowless. The only source of light was from the ones that hung on the ceiling, each being a few feet away from each other. They omitted more of a brown-ish yellow glow than white. The width of the room stretched for what looked like a hundred feet and the length was double that. A wall was placed directly in the middle to divide the whole space into two. Peter had no idea what was on the other side. Various types of lab machinery lined the walls. Some were simpler, and others were so extravagant Peter feared what they were used for. He considered himself lucky that he wasn't hooked up to one of them...yet. Instead, the men who kidnapped him decided to have a little fun. For hours now, Peter has been fighting off multiple men at once. But it didn't feel like much of a fight, more of a session where he acted as a human punching bag. The drugs had long warn off of him by now, but exhaustion quickly replaced the dizziness in his mind. 

“I said to get off your ass!” The man shouted again, or maybe it was a different one, Peter couldn't tell. He was curled up on the floor with his arms shielding his head. Six feet collided with his body, all at different speeds and forces. Peter spat up more blood, the thick crimson liquid dripping onto the damp floor. He wasn't aware of the whereabouts of his mask. He woke up without one. Thankfully, none of the Weapon-X workers recognized his face from anywhere, and no matter how many punches Peter took he wouldn't give away his secret identity. 

Peter was ripped from the cold floor, the soothing temperature of the cement was his only source of comfort at the moment. One of the men hoisted him up by the collar of his Spiderman suit and held Peter inches away from his unshaven stubbly face. His breath reeked of sex and cigarettes. 

“What's wrong Spiderman?” Drops of spit landed in Peter's face as Mr. Gruff over here had no respect for personal boundaries. But Peter didn't even have enough energy to make that snarky remark, “Can't take a little beatin'?” With a hearty laugh, he tossed Peter away from him and Peter struggled to stay on his feet. Blinking a few times before his double vision cleared up, he hastily put up his fists. The circle of men around him all laughed.

“How cute.” One of them commented then cracked his knuckles, “Restrain 'im boys.” 

Peter wasn't surprised when two pairs of muscly arms wrapped around him, holding his own arms behind his back. His legs dangled uselessly beneath him, unable to stand for himself. Peter wasn't sure whose fist collided full force into his gut, all he knew was that it hurt like a bitch. To describe his body being on fire would be an understatement. To describe his pain like burns wouldn't do what he actually felt justice. Peter couldn't put it into words the sharp pain he felt in his sides every time his lungs contracted. It was like he was breathing in dust instead of air and his throat seared with every breath. 

Another fist smashed into his stomached. 

And then another.

And another.

After a while, Peter grew numb. He never got use to the pain, but he stopped paying attention to it. It became a minimum factor of his being, as if it didn't matter anymore. Everything around him started to blur as his vision became laced with black and blue spots. He was on the verge of passing out again, and that's when the men let him fall to the ground. Peter came in contact with the floor with a weak thump, his body falling limp and giving into the cool cement. After nearly a day of this going by, Peter knew the routine. Just when he was near the edge of losing consciousness, the men would take a break from their little game to let him rest up. So Peter never got the relief of blacking out. He never got to forget the pain his body was in, it even seemed to protest against blinking. Peter gasped for breath, his every muscle twitching in attempt to get into a position that didn't cause the rest of him pain. He shook, shivering against the floor. 

“Is he still awake?” A distance voice asked, or at least to Peter it sounded distance. 

“Yeah boss, he's awake.”

“Good, we just been notified that Deadpool is approaching the property. Get him strapped in.” The sound of heels turning vibrated against the floor as footsteps faded away. Peter was hauled back up against by his shirt and slung over a broad shoulder. 

“Jim, get the table. I got the spider.” 

Peter's upper body swung from side to side slightly as he tried to get his vision back into focus. Before he knew it, he was being shifted around again. His back was pressed against a cold hard surface as he was forced upright. Straps were placed around both of his ankles, his thighs, his wrists and chest. Peter soon realized he was strapped to a vertical table as he felt himself swing back and forth. If they wanted to, they could easily smash his head into the floor just by knocking the table downwards. He hoped that wouldn't happen. Peter's head limply fell to his chest as he struggled to keep it up. If he wanted to do one thing, it was keep his head held high.

“Deadpool approaching, 15 meters away.” 

As if Peter's body didn't hurt enough, his heart ached at the mention of Deadpool's name. It lurched in his chest and it became a little harder to breath. The first thought that popped into his head was: _It took him long enough._ Peter hadn't realized he was expecting Deadpool to come. He would have to scold himself for that later. 

“Where the fuck is he!?” Wade's voice was by far the loudest thing in the building as Peter heard him burst through the doors. He was on the other side of the wall, so that's where the exit was. Peter couldn't hear what the other people were saying, all he heard were Wade's replies, “Get your hands off me! Did you fucking touch him!? I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill all of you! Hey! I said to get your hands off of me!”

The commotion died down and panic rose in Peter. He didn't like the silence that followed. Where was Wade? What happened to him? Within moments, his questions were answered. It took five men to hold Wade back and escort him into the same large room Peter was in. And now, despite there being 20+ agents in this room, Peter's eyes immediately locked with the white ones of Wade's Deadpool mask. Just seeing Wade caused a weak smile to flicker across his lip. For the first time today, Peter felt a spark of hope.

“Spidey!” Wade was smart enough not to use Peter's real name. But he wasn't smart enough to not try and come running towards him. The five men held him back with ease and Wade earned himself a fist to his face. He didn't stop struggling. Behind them, a tall lean figured emerged and walked two steps ahead of the crowd as they made their way towards Peter. They stopped a few feet away from him, Wade still fighting against the mens' grip. Peter recognized the tall one as the person they other men addressed as boss. So he must be the leader of the kidnapping operation. His name tag read Ian. 

“You might want to stop struggling, Mr. Wilson.” Ian had a slight accent to his voice, but Peter couldn't quite place what it was. Wade didn't listen, in fact, he showed no sign of even hearing the warning. Ian nodded his head towards one of the guards that was standing by Peter's side. A second later, Peter received another blow to his stomach. He gasped as his body spasm, wanting to hunch over but his restraints prevented him from doing so. At the sight of his pain, Wade immediately stopped fighting against the arms that were holding him back. The fabric of his mask formed to his expression of concern, even through the mask Peter could tell Wade's eyes were apologetic. 

Ian smirked, revealing his pristine white teeth to match the lab coat he was wearing, “That's better. Now, let's play a little game, shall we?”

Immediately, Wade protested. He knew what kind of games Weapon-X liked to play, they weren't fun, “No way. You wanted me, I'm here. Let Spiderman go.” 

Ian pouted, walking up to Wade and grabbing him by his chin, “But that's no fun. Don't you remember playing our games, Mr. Wilson? You were with us once. What was it, our department in Canada? I heard you had loads of fun there.”

“Bullshit.” Wade growled as Ian tightened the grip he had on his face, “Let him go. You have me, you can do whatever you want to my body. Tear it apart limb from limb, cut me open, I don't fucking care. But I swear to god if there is one bruise on Spiderman's body I'll will be the one tearing you open. Hurt me. Beat me. Break me. But You. Can't. Have. Him.” Wade's voice went deep and breathy, it sent chills up Peter's spine but the boss didn't look impressed.

Ian dropped the fake joy he had in his voice, “That's no way to talk to someone who owns you.”

“You don't own anything.”

“Your father sold you to Weapon-X, remember? You're rightfully ours.” Ian laughed and released Wade's face, “Why do you think we've been chasing you all this time? We can't have a loose experiment running around.” He turned to address his guards, “Get him hooked up. Oh, and unmask him.” Ian turned on the his heels and walked away, hands tucked neatly behind his back. The guards put the orders into place. Two of them walked off to whatever hell contraption they were going to hook Wade up to as another one ripped his mask from his face. All people surrounding them either laughed or grimaced in disgust. Wade flinched but then he locked his blue eyes with Peter's brown ones. And suddenly, despite all the commotion that was still going on around them, everything went silent as he stared at Wade. Wade's eyes were pained and held a thousand apologies. But there was also panic. They reflected how rapidly his heart was beating, they reflected the anxiety in his chest, they reflected the weight of his thoughts. His eyes were an open window, curtains of desperation flapping wildly in the wind and rained streaked the cracked glass. Unknowingly, Peter's body jolted against the restraints. He wanted to run and embrace Wade. He wanted to breath in his musky scent. He wanted to forgive and apologize to him. While Peter could never forget the fact that Wade killed 21 people, he could at least understand why. Peter now knew why he claimed all these Weapon-X agents were bad people. He knew what Wade was trying to protect him from now. Peter wished he would have listened to Wade's reasoning. He wished he tried harder to understand. And lastly, he wished Wade could forgive him. Peter said a lot of things he shouldn't have that night, things we wanted to take back, things he regrets.

Sooner than possible, the two men returned with a large, almost container-like looking contraption. It was vertical, like Peter's table, and the front was completely made out of glass that opened to the side so its victims could easily step in. Tubes and wires stuck out at odd angles that attached to a smaller, rectangular shaped, beeping machine to its side. Wade didn't go in easy, but he was no match for the multiple men that pushed and locked him inside. Wade's face immediately paled and his chest was heavy with the breath that he suddenly lost. The machine wasn't even on yet, but the space was much too small for him. Peter could only watch in helpless horror, unable to do anything for Wade in his panicked state. He started to bang his fists against the glass, screaming to let him out, there were no restraints holding him back, but the glass didn't break.

“Stop fidgeting.” One of the men grumbled, banging against the glass for Wade to shut up. Wade didn't stop. 

“I got this.” The deep voice came from behind Peter, it was one of his own guards. He came to Peter's front and roughly grabbed him by the throat. Peter gasped for breath but only emptiness filled his lungs, “Yo Wilson! Now you're not the only one who can't breath!”

Peter wanted to claw at his throat to try and get the hands off of him, but he couldn't move. The corners of his vision started to blur as he heard Wade shouting.

“Let him go! Don't fucking touch him!” There was one last bang against the glass before he stood still just like the guards told him to. But they didn't let Peter go right away. Tears rose in his eyes from the lack of oxygen but they did not fall. The hand on Peter's throat finally let go and Peter gasped painfully, already feeling his throat starting to bruise. 

“Aw, look at 'em pretty eyes.” The man that was once choking Peter, we'll call him Guard #1, now gripped onto Peter's jaw and forced him to look up, “Perfect blow job eyes, makes me wanna choke 'im with something else other than my hand.”

Peter couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

God these guys' lines were so bad. He could practically hear the jokes Wade thought boxes were probably making. Something about awkward dialogue in a fanfiction or what not. Almost thankfully, Ian returned, saving Peter from hearing anymore disgusting pervy lines. Ian came in just as neatly as he left, except now he was munching on a blood red apple. He stood in the space in between Peter and Wade, looking from side to side at each of them. 

“My god, you are hideous.” Ian said, taking a taunting bite of his fruit. 

“What the hell do you want!?” Wade shouted, but the thick glass muffled his voice. 

“I'm glad you asked,” Peter didn't like the smile that spread across Ian's face as he took a few steps closer to Wade, “I'm afraid it's not what I want, but rather who. And that's you, Mr. Wilson. You have something I need.”

“I don't have anything! And even if I did, like hell I would give it to you!” Wade was snarling, almost animal like. Ian tsked, setting his hand flat against the glass of the trap.

“Oh but you do have it. You have lots of it. You see, and I'm sure you're already aware of this, but we've been kidnapping some men lately to take part in our little experiment. We've been trying to recreate the process they put you through down at Department-K, but we never got it quite right. Results were often disappointing. So, we thought, why not bring science on our side? We took the same drug they first injected into you and we made some...modifications. But the effect was never permanent. That's when I realized, we were missing an ingredient. Your DNA.” 

Wade rolled his eyes, this guy was talking too much even for him, “What the hell are you trying to say?”

Ian sighed, annoyed, “We're trying to create-”

“Super soldiers.” The words escaped from Peter's mouth in a whisper before he could stop himself. He clued into it. It all made sense now. Wade's importance to this project, the kidnapping of men all around Wade's age, and the result that the drug had on skin, It turned other people's skin into Wade's scarred flesh because they were literally trying to recreate Wade himself. Peter never thought to physically inject the drug into anything, but he already knew what the results would be. With Wade's DNA, whoever they injected the drug into, their skin would be horribly disfigured but they would gain an extraordinary power. Wade's healing factor. Weapon-X wanted to create Deadpool soldiers. 

“That's right.” Ian smiled at Peter, his voice laced with slight shock. For a moment Peter was actually convinced he was going to get praised for his discovery, “If an army had Mr. Wilson's incredible healing factor, they would be unstoppable. Imagine the power that would give their leader.” Ian turned his head back to Wade, “So I need your DNA, and that's where our little game is going to come into play. You're going to cooperate with any order I give, you'll answer any question I ask without hesitation.” Ian paused, walking over to stand beside Peter, “Or else your little friend over here suffers the consequences. Understand?” 

“What consequences?” Wade asked, his voice breathless. Peter had no idea what these consequences could be, but Wade did. Wade knew all too well the wrath of Weapon-X. And Peter wasn't excited to find out. Instead of giving a direct answer, Ian decided to show the two of them instead. With a nod of his head to guard #1, that was the guard's cue to pull out a knife from his pocket. He knelt down and Peter inhaled sharply as he felt the side of his pant leg being ripped open and the cool metal of a blade press against his ankle. It did not break any skin. 

“The rules are quite simple, really.” Ian paused, swallowing a chunk of his apple, “The longer you take to cooperate with what we want, the higher and deeper the knife goes up his leg. Shall we begin?” He didn't wait for an answer, he took long, smooth steps over to Wade and stood beside his trap. Ian opened a small square compartment on the glass, “Arm please.”

Wade hesitated, eyeing Ian suspiciously. Ian didn't waste a second, he shot a look towards guard#1 and he immediately complied. Peter felt the tip of the knife poke into his ankle and slowly make its way up. The pain wasn't bad, it felt more or less like a hard pinch, but the shock from the sudden contact made him inhale sharply. Wade, on the other hand, quickly stuck as much of his arm as he could out the square hole of the glass, eager for them to stop cutting Peter. The knife paused and Peter felt the warm liquid drip down his ankle. He shuttered. 

Meanwhile, Ian took a needle off the supply table he had beside him and roughly gripped Wade's arm. Peter watched as Wade's eyes widened and Ian unskillfully stabbed the needle right in the crook of Wade's elbow. Wade didn't make a sound, but Peter knew better. He saw Wade's fists curl and his nails dug into the palm of his hands, his legs were trembling and his eyes wouldn't move off of the needle that was stuck in his arm. The guilt hurt more than the knife did. Only a day ago Peter was trying to do the same thing Ian was doing. He needed Wade's blood for the drug, just as Ian did. Their intentions were different, but the experiment was the same. 

At the end of the day, Peter was no better than the villains. 

“Now was that so hard?” Ian's voice was thick with mock compassion and a wicked grin spread across his face. Peter wanted to slap that smile right off. He was a sick, twisted, bastard. And if Peter could manage to keep his head up and blink the black spots away from his vision, he was sure he'd be able to break out of these restraints...or so he liked to think. But even Spiderman has his limits, and Peter was pushed past his a long time ago. 

Ian finished hooking Wade up to the machine next to his own. The rectangle box was flicked on, it read Wade's vitals and kept track of his heart beat. Blood started to be drawn from the needle inside his arm, up the extended clear tube, and disappearing into the box. Peter's chest ached watching Wade trying not to scream, trying not to move, trying not to make any mistakes that might sabotage everything. Before any more requests were made, Ian slightly signaled the men standing around Peter to wheel him forward so now he and Wade were only about five feet apart. To Peter, this had to be the worst part of their tortured experience. Being so close to Wade enough to see every pained mark on his face, but being far enough from him to not being able to do a damn thing about it. Peter tried to lift up his head enough to make eye contact with Wade, he offered him a small smile despite his mouth still dripping a metal tasting liquid. He saw the horror spread across Wade's face as he got a closer look at his trapped baby boy. Now he was able to see the dark circles that burnished Peter's eyes. If they were swollen from bruises or from being sleep deprived, nobody could tell. The black bruise on his cheek now gained a blue rim as it ran from his cheek bone, thinned out by his ear, then thickened again to take up nearly half his jawline. How he ended up with such an usual and extravagant bruise was a mystery to both of them. Peter's lips were dry, cracked, and busted. A yellow bruise sprang from the corner of his mouth and spread out like rays of sun before fading into his pale skin tone. All cherry redness from his usually flushed cheeks was gone, there was no trace of blood in his face ever existing as Peter looked a few shades lighter than he should be. The only source of red was that which came from his bleeding mouth and crusted over to stain his chin. Peter was thankful that his clothes were still on so Wade couldn't see the bruises that covered his chest, abdomen, hips, and legs. 

“Let's begin with a simple question.” Ian sat down in the chair that was place beside Wade, it made him look all the more threatening, “I want to know Spiderman's name.”

Peter's gasp was quiet but loud enough to draw Wade's attention to him. He shook his head slightly from side to side, his eyes pleading Wade not to tell. But his begging eyes turned into pained ones as Peter's mouth dropped open in a silent cry once the blade drug deeper into his leg. 1/3 of it was in his leg and about halfway up his calf. Peter hung his head again and bit down hard on his lip to keep himself from crying. He would not shout. He would not cry. If Wade could relive past experiences for him, then he could go through this one for Wade. He would not let the pain get to him. 

“I-I don't know it!” Wade stuttered out, placing one hand against the glass while the other one was still stuck out through the hole of his machine. 

Ian's eyes narrowed as he chucked his apple cord angrily across the room, “Liar!” 

“Stop!” Wade now screamed at the man who was cutting open Peter's leg, banging his fist against the glass, “Stop hurting him! I told you I don't know!” 

“I know you know! Now tell me!” 

Wade pressed his forehead against the glass, his hand bawling into a fist. He shut his eyes tightly, unable to look at Peter, “It's Peter! His name is Peter!”

“Last name!”

“Parker!” Wade choked back whatever emotions were overtaking him, he gulped as his voice lowered, “His name is Peter Parker.”

Peter took in a sharp breath, he could feel the cold steel of the knife in his leg begin to warm. He could feel the muscle just below and to the side of his knee start to pulse and squeeze around the blade. He could feel the pain like venom spreading down his leg and seeping into his every vain. He felt his blood coming out in gushes. Thick droplets that ran down his leg and gathered up until they splattered on the floor. Peter's breath came out in short, injured puffs. 

Wade made sure to answer the questions more quickly.

“Where have you been hiding all these years, Mr. Wilson?”

“I have a number of warehouses all over New York.” 

“Just New York?”

The knife went up.

Peter gasped.

“All over the country!”

The knife moved again.

“And in Canada!”

The knife paused.

Peter gagged. 

Ian smiled.

“What was your experiment number in Department-K?”

“I don't remember.”

The knife moved up. 

“24601.” 

“I don't appreciate sarcasm!”

The knife went up again.

Peter shuttered.

“It was 2247.”

“Now, tell me about your time in Department-K. What did they do to you? What kind of pain did they put you through? Tell me everything...”

That's the last Peter heard before he started to black out. It got harder and harder to stay awake, he could no longer keep his head up and the black spots that danced around his vision became thicker. The world seemed to go silent, every voice that Peter once heard with clarity were now just inaudible mumbles. Like a bee constantly buzzing near his ear, Peter shook his head to try and shoo it away. The bee never flew away, its buzzes matching to the tempo of his heart. It hammered in his chest, attempting to desperately fill his body with a healthy amount of blood. But it wasn't making up for the amounts he was losing. Peter no longer felt pain in his leg, it grew numb with a tingling sensation in every nerve. He didn't even know if the knife was still in his leg or not. Maybe they pulled it out. Maybe he wasn't even bleeding. Maybe Peter wasn't even here. Maybe he was back in his bed, curled up in a blanket, he was falling asleep to a movie, Wade was beside him, tickling his leg to get him to wake up.

Peter was awoken, but not to the scene he was hoping to find. He heard what sounded like ripping Velcro and then was hit with the pain. The knife had torn through the rest of his leg then plunged fully into his thigh. 

For the first time that night, Peter screamed. 

All of his senses came rushing back at once. He could hear the men around him laughing, he could hear Wade shouting, and he could see Ian's devilish smile. 

“Ah, so experiment #2 does talk.” 

“He's not an experiment!” Wade snapped back. He showed no sign of his strength failing despite his blood running out of his body and through a tube. But that was the thing about Wade, he had his healing factor. It could regenerate his blood practically quicker than his heart. His body would never go dry. 

“Hush now 2247, I've got an idea.” Ian got up from his chair and Peter cringed at his tone of voice and Wade cringed at the use of his experiment number, being reduced down to that name was humiliating. With a few smooths steps, Ian glided over to Peter and stood in front of him. Ian was only slightly taller, but was still able to look him directly in his eyes. The smile that crossed his face sent chills down Peter's spin, “Let's hear that beautiful scream again, yeah?” Peter braced himself, expecting the knife to be pulled from his thigh and sunken back into his skin. But Ian was searching for a different kind of scream from him. In less than a second, Ian brought his hand down and firmly cupped Peter's groin. He started to rub. 

Peter gasped at the sudden contact and squirmed against his restraints, this proved to be a grave mistake as it created more friction. He felt heat rush downwards and blood that he didn't have to spare went somewhere else other than his leg. Ian smirked at the involuntary reaction Peter's body was having as he in leaned close to his ear, biting it in the process, “You like that?” Ian's voice was low and hungry. He was a predator.

“Nnn...” Peter tried to speak, moving his head away from Ian, but ending up just giving him more access to his neck, “N-No.” Peter didn't have to scream for him to stop, Wade was doing that for him. Shouting a string of curses and threats, but nobody seemed to hear him, or at least they were pretending that they didn't. 

Ian tilted Peter's chin up, studying his face,“My my, you are beautiful.” He stepped away, keeping his back to Wade, “Cruz, take over, I wanna watch the show.”

Guard #1, Cruz, smirked, “Gladly.” His hand was much larger than Ian's and was able to hold Peter's groin in just his palm. His grinding was uneven and he put pressure in all the wrong places. Peter bit down on his lip as he body shook, he held in any noises that threatened to come out of his throat. They were trying to summon up energy that he didn't have to give. Peter shook his head, trying to protest against it, but he was weak, he was tired, and his blood was pooling on the floor. He was out of it. He could either concentrate on the throbbing of his limp leg or the friction near his hips. Neither one was preferable. 

Cruz brought his dirty hand to Peter's mouth, holding out two fingers, “Suck them.” He demanded and Peter blinked lazily at him, unsure if he heard right. He wasn't listening to anything that Cruz or Ian were saying. He wasn't focusing on the pain his body was in. Peter was turned all his attention on Wade, even if he couldn't see him.

“Don't you dare!” Wade pounded against the glass, “Get your hands off him! Don't you fucking touch him like that!” A ghost of a smile spread across Peter's lip at hearing how worried Wade was for him. But that faded smile didn't last long as two large fingers were harshly shoved into his mouth. 

“I told you to suck them.” Cruz hissed again, moving his fingers in and out of Peter's mouth. Peter coughed and gagged around the large hand as drool dripped from the corner of his mouth and joined the blood on his chin. White light flickered across his eyes as breathing became nearly impossible. A loud ringing filled his ears and silenced Wade's voice. Now Peter had nothing else to concentrate on but his own body. Only now did he realize that both his eyes, and his pants, were getting wet, “Now scream.” Cruz spat another command but Peter didn't hear him, “Scream you little brat.” Cruz demanded again and kicked Peter's leg. His scream vibrated around Cruz's fingers. 

That was the last straw. 

Every nerve in Peter's body short-circuited, shaking him to the point of aching. He was now blacking out for brief periods of time, only catching snippets of what was going on around him. He heard glass break and an angry cry, gun shots were going off. He felt all warmth leave his body, it falling completely limp and staying on the table just by the restraints that were holding him up. He smelt blood, whether it was his own or someone else, Peter had no clue. And lastly, Peter saw Wade. He didn't know when or how it happened, but Wade escaped form the machine that was holding him in. He was fighting off many men at once, getting swallowed by a sea of black. Or maybe that was just Peter's vision. He couldn't tell. But Wade was angry. Wade was vicious. Wade was Deadpool. 

Peter blacked out again. 

~~

The voice that was calling him was soft, it was the only sound that Peter could hear. The scent that filled his nose was strong, musk and gun powder were the only things that Peter could smell. The flavour that filled his mouth was putrid, copper was the only thing Peter could taste. But Peter took comfort in the feeling of warmth that surrounded his body like a blanket. Strong arms were the only thing he could feel. No pain. No friction. Just arms. Big, comforting arms. Peter felt safe. And then he could see. He forced his heavy eyes open and all he saw was Wade. His Deadpool mask was on again, but it did not filter the hysteria. He was saying something, and Peter could just barely make out the words.

“Holy shit Peter, wake up. Please, just- just wake the fuck up. Tell me your not dead, tell me what a shit day you're having, tell me anything. W-Wake up and yell at me. C'mon Pete, please yell at me-” Wade's voice broke with a cross between a sharp inhale of breath and a cry, “Tell me what an idiot I am. Tell me how stupid I've been. Tell- Tell me how badly I fucked up. Please just, god-” Wade choked on his words, a sob tinting his voice, “-please just tell me I wasn't too late.”

Peter wanted to say something, he wanted to talk to Wade, to let him know that he was okay. But his mouth wouldn't move. In fact, his entire body wouldn't move. He was stuck. 

“Just stay alive until I get you home, then I promise- I _promise_ I'll be outta your hair. You'll never have to see me again, just please don't die on me Pete.” 

Peter didn't know what Wade was saying. He didn't want him to leave. He didn't want to never see Wade again, he just got him back and now he's leaving? The grip Peter didn't know he had on Wade's suit tightened and he forced himself to speak. But it came out in a slur mess, “Don'leave, stay...I need...please...” Just from those simple -more or less- words, Peter was out of breath. He had no idea if Wade heard him or not, but he couldn't stay awake. It felt as if his body was just washed over with cold water but cleaned him of any injuries. Peter felt lighter than air, almost as if he was going to float away, but as Wade's grip around his body tightened -keeping him in place- it was bliss. As of right now, he didn't have a care in the world other than to stay in Wade's embrace. Peter didn't know if this what it felt like to die, or even if he was dying or merely just falling asleep. Because that's what it felt like. Peter imagined death a lot more painful, more heartbreaking, but it didn't feel like he dying at all. Peter felt as if he just crawled into bed and was preparing to sleep in the next morning, all his muscles relaxed like they do when you're just about to fall asleep. Death was not suppose to be this freeing. 

So maybe Peter wasn't dying at all, maybe he was just falling asleep in Wade's arms as he ran to who knows where. Peter smiled at the thought, that's all he wanted. He wanted to stay asleep. He wanted to stay in Wade's arms. He wanted Wade to stay. And for a moment, it felt like that was possible. Even though Peter knew his wish was flawed, he didn't care. He couldn't. He just savoured being this close to Wade again. Peter curled himself up, closer to Wade's chest, closer to his heart, as a death like sleep washed over him and he gave into the tiredness of his body, not planning to wake up any time soon.


	29. Chapter 28

Wade didn't know what was going faster, his beating heart or his pounding feet. He barely registered the uneven dirt below him, as soon as he felt a surface beneath his foot, his other one was already launching him off the ground. But to Wade, it still wasn't fast enough, he still wasn't good enough. He was only about half way there and just about to enter the city again. He needed a new plan. He quickly hauled down the first taxi he saw, it didn't matter if there was anyone else already using it, Wade threw them out and got in the back seat himself. He held a gun to the driver's head. 

“Drive.” Wade growled, now only holding onto Peter with his bad arm while the other gripped tightly onto his gun. With a nervous stutter, the driver started the car again and drove off. He was mewling in fear, his hands shaking against the wheel.

“W-Where t-t-to Mr. uh...Mr-”

“Stark tower.” Wade kept his answers gruff, his attention never divided from Peter. The taxi driver took off, but looked back over his shoulder.

“D-Don't you wanna go to a hospital or-or something?”

“I didn't ask for your fucking opinion! Now drive!” Wade kicked the back of the driver's seat, putting his gun in his boot then leaning back against his own seat. There was no doubt he was going to leave a bloodstain in this taxi. But whoever thought Wade gave a fuck about that would be gravely mistaking. The only thing on his mind right now was to get Peter to his dads, they would know what to do. Wade adjusted his grip on Peter, staring down at the injured boy. Both him and Peter were shirtless, Wade had removed their shirts to wrap around Peter's leg. He hoped that would stop some of the bleeding. So that left him bare chested; every bullet whole, every stab, every hit he took on tonight was now visible to everyone who dared to cast a look their way. But the worst part of it wasn't showing off his own skin for the world to see, no, the worst part of it was seeing Peter. His chest was more black and blue than his normally pasty skin colour. Seeing Peter like this hurt Wade more than any wound could. And that's why Wade killed them. All those men, every single one that was in the building, he slaughtered. He didn't know which ones hurt Peter, he didn't care, they all deserved to die. Fuck family life, fuck secret back stories, if those fuckers worked for Weapon-X then they had no purpose to live. They already killed themselves. Wade felt no guilt, he barely even felt tired from taking on all those men. Every time he got hurt, it would just fuel his rage more, provoke more energy within him. The only wound that got to him was his left arm. From below the elbow was split in half, literally cut directly down the middle. His left hand was also missing. This made it harder to carry Peter, not to mention that Wade was getting his blood on Peter's body right at this very moment. He should have seen that guy coming from behind him. And Wade regretted screaming as the blade went straight through his lower arm and sliced it open, he did not want to give them the gratification of causing him pain. They already done that so many times. 

As soon as the taxi pulled up to Stark tower, Wade got out. He didn't bother closing his door, he didn't bother paying the taxi driver, he just ran in. 

“Welcome Mr-”

“Jarvis!” Wade snapped, interrupted the AI system, “Is the stairs or the elevator faster?” 

“I can take you up faster in the elevator.” 

Wade gave a nod of his head and without a second thought, he ran inside the elevator, “Tell Steve and Tony that I'm coming up and that I've got Peter." Jarvis gave no response to this, Wade could only assume that he did it. The elevator doors closed and Wade braced himself. As soon as it started to race upwards, he felt his chest tighten. But he already suffered through one tight space tonight, surely he could do an elevator. Besides, nothing mattered right now other than getting Peter to safety, not even Wade's thought boxes dared to interrupt him. 

Wade held Peter's body closer to his own and shut his eyes tightly. He counted the seconds off in his head, pretending not to notice the walls closing in around him. The doors soon parted open and he staggered out. He wasn't sure if he was exhausted because of the fighting, the run, or the elevator, but the wave of dizziness that soaked over him made it hard to concentrate. Wade barely noticed that Steve and Tony were right there to meet him. They both had very different reactions.

Steve was in shock, his blue eyes wide with woe and his voice merely a whisper, “Oh my god...” Steve kept his distance. Tony, on the other hand, walked right up to Wade. The short man was flustered, angry, and Wade had to take a step back from him because he was so close. 

“You son of a bitch, what they hell did you do to my son!?”

“Peter- I- we- he- uh-” Wade's tongue became heavy, he was unable to speak. How was he suppose to explain everything in such short notice? How was he suppose to tell Peter's dads how badly he fucked up and that Peter paid the price for him? How was Wade suppose to admit to fucking Captain America and Ironman that their son was laying limp in his arms because he had been too slow to rescue him? Wait. Peter. Limp in his arms. Oh right, they needed a hospital. Or a doctor. Or something, “Hos- Hospital.” Wade stuttered out, trying to get control over himself. 

“Tony.” Steve set a hand on his husbands shoulder, and in that one simple gesture, a million unspoken words passed between them. 

“I'll get the car. Steve, bring Peter.” Tony turned and ran down to his lab to get the car ready. Steve focused his attention back on Wade, neither of them knew what to say. Without a word, Steve tried to take Peter from Wade's arms, but Wade took a step back. It wasn't that he didn't trust Steve, in fact he barely registered it was Steve who was reaching out towards Peter. All Wade saw were hands, hands hungry wanting to touch Peter. He already had to watch once as hands ravished his baby boy and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. But now he could. Wade was going to make sure no one ever touched Peter again. 

“Guess your coming with us Wilson.” Steve tried his best to use a stern voice, but Wade knew he was soft on the inside. The thing about Steve was that he wasn't only just concerned for Peter, but also for Wade. He seemed to be the only one who noticed that Wade was missing a hand and covered in bullet holes. Steve threw an old sweatshirt at Wade for him to wear but wasted no time expressing his concerns, there was other things to worry about. Wade would heal, Peter wouldn't. The two of them rushed down the stairs and joined Tony in his lab...garage...workspace...thing. Wade didn't know what to call it. And for the first time in his life, he got to ride in a sports car. Nobody said a word about the stains that he was leaving. Or perhaps it was Peter who was to blame for the red stains. No one could tell, after all, how can you tell blood from blood?

Wade's knot of anxiety grew bigger once Tony drove pass the hospital's parking lot and drove out back instead. Steve must of sensed Wade's worry.

“There's a secret back entrance to the hospital strictly for superheroes.” He explained and Wade glanced over at him. They were both in the back seat, Tony was driving. The tires screeched as he came a halt. Everyone got out of the car and Wade raced after Steve and Tony, following them into a back entrance to the hospital. There wasn't just a different doorway to this hell hole, but a completely different quadrant to it reserved specifically for superheroes. It was like a whole second part to the hospital that Wade didn't even know about. But why would he? He never came to this place, he had his healing factor. And besides, why would he know about a secret heroes' hospital when he wasn't even a hero? 

“Where's Dr. Rose?!” It was Steve who shouted, he had the loudest voice. All heads immediately turned to them and pagers started to go off as staff scrambled. Captain America was here, everyone takes orders from him. Not seconds later, this supposed doctor Rose appeared. She was a short lady with thin black hair and tanned skinned. Her voice still held part of a Spanish accent to it.

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Stark, my pager started to go off like crazy. This better be important.”

The two parents didn't have to say anything, they just stepped to the side to reveal Wade and Peter behind them. Rose's eyes widened as she approached their injured son. Her eyes quickly scanned over Peter's body before she started ordering near by nurses around. One of them wheeled up a gurney beside Wade and he just eyed it suspiciously. 

“Sir, I need you to set Mr. Parker down. We need to preform on him immediately.” Rose addressed Wade but he didn't react. It was like she was speaking another language. Set Peter down? Preform? Preform what? Did this mean leaving Peter alone with doctors? Wade didn't care how special this hero hospital was, he still never trusted doctors. When he didn't response, Rose snapped, “Do you want him to lose his leg or not!? Now put my patient down!”

Wade didn't like it, but he did it anyway. He watched with horror as Peter was wheeled away from him and he was left alone in the waiting room with Steve and Tony. He never took his eyes off the spot where Peter use to be. He didn't want to imagine what those doctors were doing to him. 

“Wade!” 

He barely recognized the voice, he never heard Tony call him by his proper name. Before he could fully turn around to face the panic stated parents, Wade was yank downwards by the collar of his sweater and Tony's fist collided with his face. Wade stumbled back a few steps, tripped, and landed awkwardly in the seats of the waiting room. For the first time, he was the one looking up at Tony, “That's for my son you piece of shit.”

{Whoa, go papa Tony!}

[Yeah! Fuck us up!]

{We deserve it.}

It was like Tony's fist activated his thought boxes again. Just for that alone Wade wanted to smack the iron douche bag right back, but he didn't. His boxes were right, he did deserve it.

“Tony!” Steve was not shy to scold his husband right in the middle of the hospital. But they were the only ones here besides the staff. However, Steve wasn't using his 'you've been a bad husband so as your husband I'm going to yell at you' voice, he was using his 'you've been a bad person so I'm gonna go all Captain America disapproves on your ass' voice. Even from only saying his name, Wade could tell that Tony hated when Steve talked to him like that.

“What, Steve?” Tony spat right back, glaring at his husband from over this shoulder, “This is the man that hurt our son! Don't you wanna do something about it!?” 

“We don't even know what happened!” 

Wade shrunk down in his seat. How come he was always caught in the middle of Peter's family's bickering?

“I know what happened! Deadpool happened!” Tony pointed an accusing finger at Wade then grabbed him by the collar of his sweater again, hoisting him up and forcing him to bend down so that their faces were close to touching. Tony seemed to have forgotten Steve was even there. All his attention, all his anger, was focused on Wade, “You're the bastard that did this to our son, it's your fault!”

Wade didn't protest, he didn't fight back, not even when Tony slammed him into the back wall, “Peter never should have gotten involved with you, our son was perfect until you came along! It was a mistake to ever let him get close to you, you are Peter's one mistake! You hearing me!? You're nothing but a mistake! You flawed our son!”

“Tony.” Steve cut in sharply, “Lay off.”

“Why should I!? You broke Peter's heart, Wade! And now you want back into his life so you can just do it all over again!? Yeah, I don't think so!” Tony yanked Wade off the wall and pushed him away, sending him stumbling and tripping over his own two feet. Wade fell to the floor, “Why are you even here!? Peter doesn't need you anymore, you're worthless to him! Get out of here! I never want you near my son or my family again!” After that statement, Tony's voice grew darker, “You're a sorry excuse for a human being, Wade, if I can even call you that. Fucking lab experiment, crawl back to the cage you came from.”

{Whoa whoa whoa, too far papa Tony! Too far!}

[Is he wrong though?]

There was no need for Wade to voice what his thought boxes were saying. Steve cut in instead, “That's enough Tony!” He set a hard hand on his husbands shoulder, pulling him back, “I need to talk to you.” He dragged Tony across the waiting room and disappeared with him around the corner. Wade remained siting on the floor. 

{Maybe they're having angry sex.}

Wade let his head fall as he mumbled, “Shut up.”

~~

From around the corner, Steve pressed his shorter husband against the wall, having his arms on either side of Tony's head to block his escape, “What the hell was that Tony?!” He half yelled, half whispered. Tony just narrowed his eyes. He hated when Steve trapped him like this. Curse his height. Curse his amazing shoulder to waist ratio. Curse his fucking attractive husband in general. 

“Watch you language, Steve.” Tony knew it was a low blow, but it's all he had for now.

“Don't.” That's all Steve had to say to get Tony to stop playing around, “Now answer the question.”

“What's there to answer? Deadpool did this to Peter! He's the one who hurt out son! Aren't you angry?”

“Of course I am.” Steve snapped back but lowered one of his arms to drag his hand over his face, “But heroes aren't suppose to lash out like that! What you said was wrong, Tony.”

“We're not heroes right now, Steve, we're parents. We are worried sick parents whose son is in the hospital trying not to lose his fucking leg. And it's Wade's fault. Deadpool is dangerous and I don't want him around Peter anymore.”

“Why? Because he's a lab experiment?” Steve's voice held a bitterness that went beyond just what they were talking about, “Do you not realize that you're married to one of those?”

Oh. 

Now Tony understood. 

He groaned, shit, he maybe he _was_ the idiot, “You know that's not what I meant when I said that Steve. I was just- I was trying to get to Deadpool. I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt Peter. You saw Peter the night he was brokenhearted, that was Wade's doing. Can you blame me for lashing out at the person who damaged our son?”

Steve sighed and rested his head against the wall, his face was buried in Tony's hair. He mumbled, “I'm scared Tony.” 

Tony wrapped his arms around his husband's waist, “I am too, Capsicle.”

Steve chuckled and closed his eyes, breathing in Tony's scent. It was warm, with a hint of cologne. Normally, Steve was pretty use to their lives being hectic, it pretty much was a given guarantee for superheroes. But even so, everything that happened in the past 72 hours was overwhelming. For the first time in years, Steve felt like crying. And judging by the shine in Tony's eyes, he could guess that his husband felt the same. Now that the rush to get Peter to safety had died down, the heaviness of the situation could now come crashing down on the husbands' shoulders. Their son was in the operation room, trying not to lose the use of his leg. And the man that could be blamed was sitting right around the corner. Steve never liked to play the blame game, he would be lying if he said he didn't feel partially responsible for what happened. The thoughts of how he should have done a better job at protecting Peter or how he never should have left him alone during the night, would always be in his mind. There was no doubt that they both felt like failures. But having someone else to put at fault, it was easier than accepting the fact that they both failed their son. Or at least that's what it felt like.

Tony looked up at his husband's face, their noses now touching. Steve appeared troubled, deep in thought even, “You know, Deadpool probably thinks we're having angry sex right now.” This snapped Steve from his troubled thoughts, a ghost of a smile even crossed his lips. It was weak, but Tony still saw it. And then came Steve's light chuckled as he brought his hands up and tangled them in his husband's messy hair. He pressed their foreheads together.

“Heh, shut up.”

~~

Wade never got up from his position on the floor, he was comfortable here. And, according to his thought boxes, it was where he belonged. From the moment Steve and Tony left to go have their little talk (or sex), his thought boxes never shut up. Was Wade himself always like this? Because damn it was annoying. Was it too much to ask for just a little peace and quiet? Of course it was. Because this was Wade's mind that we're talking about, it never failed to remind him of his mistakes. 

[Tony was right, why are we even here?]

{Peter hates us.}

[Tony hates us.]

{We hate us.}

[Let's just leave.]

“I can't leave Peter.” Wade muttered to himself, his chin resting on his knees. He could hear the husbands bickering around the corner, but he paid no attention to what they were actually saying. Despite their shouting, his thoughts were much louder. 

{You really think he wants to see us when he wakes up?}

[If he ever does.]

Wade had no response to that.

{What happened to us? We use to be the merc with a mouth! We had a snarky remark for everything! Now what are we?}

[The merc with a heart? That's rich.]

{We're not suppose to have one of those.}

[Ditch the heart. Ditch the kid. Let's go freelance again. We were better off that way.]

“I told you, I can't leave Peter.”

{God, when did we start caring so much? It's sickening.}

[He left us before, shouldn't we return the favour?]

“No.”

{I don't understand why you're still holding onto him.}

[He's not going to be able to fix you, you know that right?]

“I know, that's not why I'm here.”

{Then why are we? Are we going to apologize for fucking up his leg?}

[He's never going to forgive us.]

{Hell, we don't even forgive ourselves.}

[You should have gotten there sooner.]

{You should have done something sooner.}

Wade clenched his jaw, holding his head. This whole 'make Wade feel guilty bit' was getting old real fast. It wasn't fun anymore, hell, it was never fun. His thought boxes were suppose to be the comic relief, but if Wade felt down, that's when their darker sides always came out. That's why Wade always tries his best to joke around constantly. If he's always talking, then his thought boxes can't be. But now that there was no one here, and now that he was at an ultimate low, his thoughts were at an ultimate high.

It took an hour and a half. The surgery, the stitches, the whatever they were doing to Peter, it took an hour and a half. The wait became awkward once Peter's parents returned and sat a few chair away from Wade and on the opposite side. Nobody talked. A few times, Steve tried to get him to tell them what happened. But Wade wasn't an idiot, he wasn't going to talk. His big mouth got him in enough trouble already. And sure, maybe Steve and Tony did deserve to know. But Wade was selfish. He wanted to keep that information to himself for just a little bit longer. He didn't want to relive the memories yet, he wanted to keep that small flicker of hope inside him. There was something about hearing the words out loud that would make this whole situation feel more real. Because once you say something, you can never take it back, Wade learned that the hard way. So maybe if he stayed quiet then something would turn out differently. That maybe this whole fucked up situation was actually just a huge ass hallucination. Normally he doesn't like his hallucinations, he wants to know what was real and what was his mind just playing tricks on him. But this time, Wade didn't want to know. There's probably some big philosophical reason as to why he doesn't want to know buried deep in his subconscious. But Wade didn't care. To him, all he knew for sure, was that he didn't want to know. 

When the nurse did come to get Peter's family in the waiting room, it was just Wade who was there. Steve and Tony left to got get drinks from the water cooler on another floor. They should be back any minute, but Wade didn't want to wait for them. As soon as the nurse entered the waiting room, he was on his feet. 

She looked around,“Where did Mr. Rogers and Mr. Stark go?”

“To get a drink.” Wade grabbed the petite blonde girl by her shoulders, “What about Peter? Is he okay? Is he alive? They saved him, right?” 

“Uh-”

Wade barely gave the nurse time to breath before he shook her, “Answer the fucking question!” He felt his heart start to beat faster, pulsing fear into ever nerve of his body. Each second felt much longer than it actually should be, and if Wade was smart, then he would savour every moment he had before he knew the results of what happened to Peter. At least now he could still hang on to the flicker of hope that it might have gone well. That Peter was alive and breathing. That he was okay. 

“W-Would you like to see him Mr.-” Nurse lady didn't have time to finish her sentence before Wade dashed off, answering her question while running away from her. 

“Yes!” After a few seconds, he skidded to a halt. Where the hell was he going? Wade looked back over his shoulder and saw the nurse staring at him oddly, her clipboard pressed tightly against her chest. 

“Um, if you wanna follow me to his room.”

Wade gave a curt nod of his head and followed the nurse to Peter's room. The trip was made in silence. 

When they got to the room, the nurse paused before opening the door, “You know, I'm suppose to say this whole warning speech to the family and friends of the patient before they enter the room. But judging by how you look, you already saw some shit in your days. So can I skip the speech?” 

Before he noticed he was doing it, Wade reached up and touched his face. No, his mask was still there. Then the thought dawned on him. Maybe she said that because he was wearing the mask. 

“Oh, yeah. Save both of us the time Nurse uh-” Wade leaned forward to read her name tag, “Ken?”

“Call me Katie. They haven't gotten around to giving me a new name tag yet, even though it's been 7 months since I transferred.” 

“Lazy bastards.”

“I know right?” Katie unlocked the door and held it open for him. Wade walked in, “The doctor should be here shortly.” She left. 

Wade stood in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. His thought boxes only repeated one thing over and over again. 

He studied all the tubes coming out of Peter's body.

{Our fault.}

He studied all the machines Peter was hooked up to.

[Our fault.]

He studied Peter's pale complexion.

{Our fault.}

He studied the weak rise and fall of Peter's chest.

[Our fault.]

And lastly, he studied the leg brace that was took up Peter's entire leg, nearly swallowing it whole.

{Our fault.}

Wade's legs involuntarily took him over and sat him in the seat right beside Peter's bed. For once, Wade had no words. To describe what he felt as horror or pain would be an understatement. Wade felt it in his chest, throat and stomach. His stomach held regret. Wade thought he knew the feeling. He thought he regretted his actions before, he thought that he regretted killing those men. But now he knew that he didn't. He understood now that losing Peter wasn't nearly was bad as killing him. Because even though he wasn't the one who caused Peter physical harm, he knew he was to blame for it anyway. Wade got the strong feeling of want, he wanted to kill the men who hurt Peter. But then he realized, he already has. Wade regretted killing them, only now because he wanted to do it all again. His chest held shock. It was where it hit Wade the most. He hadn't realized it before, but this whole time he was convincing himself that none of this was real. That he was going to walk into this room and Peter was going to be fine. He imagined the ideal situation. Wade cursed himself, he thought he knew better than to get his hopes up. But now his chest was a wound that was being reopened, exposed to the harshness of reality as it came cutting him open. His throat held the blame. The hands of guilt were wrapped around his neck as they clenched the fragile muscles in their grasp. It felt as if no air was getting to his lungs despite his chest rising and falling. Wade knew he was breathing, but it didn't feel like air. It tasted bitter and left his mouth dry, it made his lungs sting. Wade knew what his body was trying to tell him. He didn't deserve to breathe. Every breath he was sucking in should belong to Peter. He should be the one standing here, he should be the one breathing without the aid of a machine. Wade didn't realize when, but he was holding onto Peter's hand. He squeezed it. It didn't have the same effect it normally did. Wade still felt lonely. 

“I hope you're happy.” The voice was cruel and full of resentment. Wade didn't have to look up to know that Tony was standing in the doorway, a paper cup crushed in his hands. Wade didn't answer, he didn't even bother to look at Tony as he continued, “This is all your fault, I hope you know that.” 

Wade's free hand bawled into a fist. He already hurt one member of the superfamily, so he had to hold himself back from punching Tony, “Not now Tin man.” 

“Why not?” Tony's footsteps squeaked against the floor as he came and stood by Peter's bed, opposite side from Wade. The tone he used was cold, unforgiving, and sounded like he would break at any moment, “I don't care what Steve says. I have a right to be mad.” Tony's voice cracked as he started to yell, “That's my son! Right there! My child, fighting for his life! And the man at fault is sitting right beside him! Am I just suppose to stay calm while you're here so close to Peter?! If I didn't know any better I would think that you're gonna try to hurt him again! Is this what you wanted!?”

Wade clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth, “I _never_ wanted to hurt Peter.”

Tony huffed, his arms crossed, “Don't give me that bullshit Wade. You're Deadpool, no matter hard you try, you're always going to hurt someone. I thought you knew that, I thought you knew that you were better off alone. If you really didn't want Peter to get hurt, you never would have gotten him involve in the first place.” 

Wade didn't respond, he bit down on his tongue. Tony had no idea. He had no idea how hard Wade tried. How hard he tried to keep Peter away, to reverse everything so that Peter wouldn't get involved. He fucking killed 21 men in just a couple of weeks for the sake of them never getting to Peter. He tried too damn hard to steer Peter away, to keep him safe. But he failed. The measures that he took were exactly the thing that got Peter hurt in the first place. The killings, their fight, and Peter had to stupidly run away. Knowing him he probably wanted to clear up his head, Peter was always over thinking everything. At times, Wade found it cute. But now? He had no idea how to feel. Why the hell did Peter go back to their apartment? And why the hell did Wade have to take that mercenary job? He was gone for one day and all hell broke loose. So yes, Wade tried. He tried to fix everything, all of his mistakes. He tried so hard that it made him blind to the mistakes he was making during the process. That didn't surprise him. No matter what he tries to do, there's always a flaw in the plan. He always fucks up.

“God, out of all the maniacs out there, Peter just had to fall for you.” Tony's ranting drew Wade's attention back to the real world, “I hate you, I hate Deadpool, I've always had. But Jesus, you should have seen the way Peter's eyes lit up every time he would mention your name. And just to see him smile like that was almost convincing me that you weren't such a bad guy. Hell, maybe I was even warming up to you. But then you go and do this. As soon as things get hard, you turn around and give up. You're insecure, immature, and worthless.” Tony passed a hand over his face, his eyes getting glossy and damp, “Peter's a good kid, he doesn't deserve this. And I hope to god that when he wakes up, some sense will be knocked into him and he'll ditch your sorry ass.” 

Wade could feel the words he was longing to say burn in the back of his throat and in the pit of his stomach. His glare was sharp beneath his mask and his grip on Peter's hand tight. He prayed that Tony would just shut the fuck up, but he didn't. Tony kept going, “You're nothing but a burden to Peter, a person he feels like he has to protect. He honestly thought you were changing, so when you proved that you weren't, Peter finally saw his flaw. It was you. That's what you are Wade. You're the very human definition of a mistake, a blemish. You can sit there and mope and cry all you want, but no amount of tears is gonna wash away what you've done. You don't deserve the release of forgiveness and you certainly don't deserve Peter. So I'm gonna tell you this one more time. Get out. Leave. Get the hell away from my family and get the fuck out of my sight.” 

{Oh boy, Tony's really done it now.}

[He's in for it.]

Wade stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. He let go of Peter's hand and letting his own drop by his side, immediately they curled into fists. It only took him a few long strides to get over to Tony, he looked down at the smaller man, “No.” Wade's voice was low and boorish. He could feel his body heating up with anger, ready to spew out of his mouth. But despite his rage, Wade spoke surprisingly calm, “You can call me many things, you can blame me for everything. You can say whatever the fuck you want because odds are I already said it to myself. I know I'm a coward, I know I'm worthless, I know I'm nothing but an ugly mark on your perfect son. And for fuck's sake I know that this whole thing is my fault. So go ahead, point it out to me, make sure your words stick with me for the rest of my god damn life. And you're absolutely right about Deadpool being on his own. But that's the thing, when you're on your own, you don't take orders from anyone. Especially not from arrogant, self centered, rich ass pricks like you. So tell me how badly I fucked up, I'll take it. But do not tell me to leave, because guess what, I'm not moving a muscle. Sure, I would normally run away at a moment like this, hell I'm terrified and would love to dash for the hills. But Peter said something to me, something that's making me stay. He told me not to leave, he told me he needed me. Those were the last words he said to me. So you're even crazier than I am if you think for one second that I'm gonna leave Peter's side. But I promise you, as soon as Peter doesn't need me anymore, I'll be out of your hair. I'll leave. It'll be like I was never there in the first place. But today is not that day. So until that day comes, I'm staying with Peter. You can fucking count on that. So how 'bout you take your own damn advice and get the fuck outta here.” 

{Drop the fucking mic!}

[We drop the mic so low that it's burning in hell as we speak.]

Both Tony's and Wade's breaths came in short, angry puffs. The men of very different statures were staring intensely at each other. So intense in fact that neither of them noticed when Steve entered the room. 

“Uh, what's going on in here?” 

Both of their heads snapped towards Steve and they unknowingly exchanged a glance. Without a word, Wade walked back to his spot in the chair and Tony muttered a response, “Nothing.”

“Well, I just finished talking to the doctor.” Steve began and Wade was immediately paying attention, “And he said that Peter was going to be fine. His leg will take a little while to heal, but the slight healing he gained from his spider powers may have saved his life today. He's gonna stay in the hospital for a few weeks, and he has to stay under for a few days. The doctor said he'll give us further instructions once we're able to take Peter home again.” 

Tony sighed, showing so signs of his past anger, “Thank god,” He glanced down at Peter's peaceful face and ruffled his son's hair, “Guess our little squirt's tougher than we thought.”

Steve chuckled lightly but it lacked heart, “Heh, yeah.” 

There was a knock at the door and nurse Katy popped her head in, “Um hi,” She drummed her fingers against the door frame, “Sorry to do this, but visiting hours aren't open and some patients are trying to sleep. So I have to ask you to leave, but uh, feel free to take a couple minutes to say goodbye and what not...” Her voice trailed off, eyes shifting awkwardly to the side as she blew a few strands of blonde hair away from her face.

Steve nodded his thanks, “We'll be out in just a minute.” Katy gave a thumbs up and an apologetic smile before leaving the room. After that, the atmosphere changed. The tension melted away and Wade doubted that Steve and Tony even knew he was still here. Their whole attention was now turned onto their son, knowing it was their last moments with him before visiting hours would open again in the morning. They each took a seat on the side of Peter's bed. Tony was near his head while Steve was seated near Peter's waist. Tony entangled his hand in his son's messy hair and Steve held tightly onto Peter's hand. Wade shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. Even though he knew they were Peter's parents, and had every right to touch their son, he couldn't ignore the sick feeling inside of him. Just to see hands on Peter's body, hands that weren't his own, left Wade feeling feeble. He hated the sight, he wished he could tear off any hands that came in contact with Peter. Wade always felt the need to protect Peter, but now he was fueled with it. It didn't matter who it was, Wade promised himself that night that he would never let anyone touch Peter again. 

Wade was distracted enough to not listen in on what the worried pair of husbands were saying to their son. Wade always found it kind of pointless to talk to someone in a hospital bed who wasn't conscious. He could only assume they were saying the classic 'stay strong' or 'I know you can hear me' shit that people do in the movies. To him, it was nothing more than muttering. But what did catch him off guard, however, was to see Captain America break. There's a certain feeling that comes with seeing your childhood hero cry. The realization that they're only human and the media doesn't show half of who they are comes crashing down on you. It hits you like a bus to know that even heroes have weaknesses. It's like the first time you've ever seen your parents cry. No, not like at a movie or something sad like that, but actually cry. It's something that you know they do, every one cries eventually, but you never thought it would happen until the day actually comes. That's what Wade felt like in this exact moment, and he never realized it until now, but Steve cried exactly how one would expect Captain America to cry. He held his head high and kept his lips purse. Silent tears leaked from his eyes that were red at the corners, but he didn't even acknowledge them. You could almost swear that Steve wasn't even aware that his eyes were glossy and his face flushed. He did not make a sound, his chest never ruptured with a sob and his facial expression was always flat. But you could tell just by his eyes that he was wailing inside. That he was a broken father who failed his son. Wade could see by the pained look in his eyes that Steve never felt like less of a hero until this moment. It was an expression he never wanted to see again.

“Are you coming, Wade?” Steve asked, pulling Wade from his thoughts. All at once, his body tensed up and he was on the edge of his seat. He glanced from Peter, to the door, and back again. 

“Uh, yeah. I'll be out in just a sec.”

{That was a lie.}

[You lied to Captain America.}

“Do you want a drive home?”

“No, I'm good.”

Steve gave a curt nod of his head before taking his husband's hand and walked out of the room, leaving Wade alone with Peter (which surely Tony protested against once they were out of ear shot). Wade got up, flicked off the lights, then sat back down again so it looked like no one was left in this room except for Peter. Everything was quiet yet serene. But he still felt sick to his stomach, this silence wasn't like any other, it almost felt like a different reality all together. Like a gas station at night, or when you're walking alone with your headphones in. It's like you're in a different world and the only occupant was yourself. Or in Wade's case, it was him and Peter. The rest of the world? It didn't exist. There was nothing but white blank space outside this room and if anyone dared to leave, they'd be stuck there forever. And with this alternate reality always came a sense of importance. It was a moment you knew you had to savour because you didn't know how long it would last. When it's only you and another person in the whole world, your attention is never divided. So Wade tilted his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, letting his senses run wild.

The low hum of the machine Peter was hooked up to echoed in Wade's hollow chest. He could feel it like a song on repeat as you wait for that certain part that just makes you feel something. Something that is impossible to describe because the words do not exist. It's a bitter sweet sensation of sorrow because when that part of the song comes, even just for a few seconds, you feel full. You feel like there's something inside you that's ready to explode, but just when it's about to burst, the song ends. And you're left with this empty feeling. And then the song starts again. 

The beeping of Peter's heart monitor rang in Wade's head. He could hear it like a piano that was out of tune. A piano that should have been playing your favourite symphony, it was a sound that should normally calm you. But hearing it out of tune, you wanted to cover your ears. It hurt to listen to and yet you couldn't stop yourself. You wanted to correct what was wrong with it, finding a mistake in every key. Too fast, too slow, too loud. It wasn't the right beat. It wasn't the right timing. Everything was wrong with it but you can't stop the music. Because if the music stops, then your world stops too. 

The scent of the hospital filled Wade's nose. He could smell it like a memory you've been trying to avoid. A thought that you could not bare to reminisce on. Something that you did not want to remember. It was the scent of a loved one's old T-shirt that you clutch tightly to your chest as you cry into it because every time you breath in, you're reminded of them and how they're gone. It's a scent that should let you know that you're going to be okay, but everything time you breath in, you smell nothing but misery as the familiar scent brings you pain. It opens wounds that you spent your whole life trying to close and yet here you are, breathing in and breathing out a scent that lingers in the air like a burnt out candle. And so the memories you've been avoiding come flooding back and you're not sure if you're drowning in your thoughts or in your own tears. But in the end, you should have known better, it's impossible to dodge every single bullet when you're the only target. Even if you've been doing it for years, you were bound to get hit.

The taste of the air lingered on Wade's tongue every time he breathed in. He could taste it like morning breath. It was hot, stinky, and if you really paid attention, you could feel all the bacteria crawl within your own mouth. It was the taste of your least favourite food made by your favourite person You don't want to hurt their feelings, and you don't want to leave the table, so you suck it up for a while. Not because you want to, but because you have to. Because you owe it to them to stay, even if it meant being on the verge of vomiting every five seconds. It's the taste of the wind on a stormy day as you're heading right for its heart. It's whipping in your face and tempts you to turn around, but you keep going out of sheer determination. It's hard to breath and whatever breath you suck in is cold and feels like it's going to freeze your lungs, yet somehow they still end up burning. It's the taste of swallowing spit with a dry mouth. Warm. Sticky. Thick. And for a second, it feels like you might die. You never thought it possible, but now that it's happening, your cause of death would be the one thing that's suppose to keep you alive. Choking on air. What an ironic way to die. 

Wade braced himself as he opened his eyes, his sight taking a second to adjust to the blue moonlight that filtered through the window. This was the last of his senses, but it was by far the worst. He could see it exactly as it was. The sight was like seeing a loved one broken down and beaten, hanging onto their life by just a couple of tubes. It was like reading a book of all your past mistakes and when you get to that last page, you realize it wasn't a book at all but a mirror. And this whole time you've just been reading into your own eyes because that's where you carry all your mistakes. All your insecurities. All your flaws. Wade squeezed Peter's hand and slid off his mask with his other. He held it. Staring down at the red and black fabric. Wade knew in that moment that he did not deserve this mask tonight. He did not deserve to hide anymore. It's time to let the world know what kind of monster Wade Wilson actually is. It's time to let everyone know just how hideous he can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Don't talk to me or my son ever again"
> 
> Tony is such a meme


	30. Chapter 29

Tony knew when he heard the crash exactly where it came from. He passed a hand over his tired eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he suppressed a sigh. The red numbers of his clock seemed to shine too brightly in the dimness of his lab as they flashed 2:49am. He set down his screw driver and closed his holographic blueprints as he made his way out of his garage and to the gym. Sure enough, Steve was there trying to hang another punching bag from the chain to replace the one he knocked off. Tony leaned against the entrance, arms crossed, “Aren't you usually the one who yells at me for staying up too late?” 

At the sound of his husband's voice, Steve turned around. Sweat glistened in beads against his forehead and arms; the damp fabric of his white t-shirt clung to his chest and he was sporting a pair of loose, grey sweatpants. If it wasn't for Steve's obvious distress, Tony would have taken a moment to admire the beauty that was his husband. But when he only nodded his head in Tony's direction, Tony knew something was up. He had a pretty good idea what it was too.

He took slow, short steps over to Steve who went back to beating up yet another poor, unsuspecting punching bag. Tony repeated the speech Steve usually gave him when he found him in his lab in the early morning, “You've been down here for three nights in a row. You're gonna work yourself to death.” Steve quickly cast his glance to the side, looking into Tony's eyes. He recognize the words, his words. Tony couldn't help but to allow himself to feel a sense of pride, it wasn't every day that he got to use Steve's own words against him, “You should come up and eat something, it's not healthy to spend all this time on your own.”

Steve growled his response, his breaths coming out in short angry huffs, “Save the speech, Tony.” 

Tony frowned and circled the punching bag, standing on Steve's other side, “Your hands are bleeding.” He pointed once he spotted the red marks on the punching bag. It wasn't like Steve to forget to wear his gloves, or at least put protective wrap on. 

“So?” That was the only word he muttered, his punches starting to get faster and harder. Tony's brow furrowed in concern and annoyance. He hoped to god that he wasn't this annoying when Steve was trying to get him out of the lab 

“So you're going to hurt yourself.” 

By knocking a second punching bag to the ground was response enough to let Tony know that Steve didn't care. Steve paused, took a deep breath in, and let a deep breath out before murmuring, “I need another one.” He stalked off to the side where the ground was lined with spare punching bags. Tony was quick to follow.

“Steve, babe, stop. You've had enough.” Tony tried to set a hand on his husband's shoulder but it was pushed away. 

“Oh yeah? Tell that to your drinking habit.”

Ouch. That was a low blow. But Tony couldn't deny it. It's been three days since Peter has been in the hospital, and for those three days their family was a mess. Nothing was the same without Peter here. Breakfast was usually skipped despite their tradition of always eating it together, no matter what. Tony usually just had something to drink, even if it was before nine in the morning, and Steve stayed in bed later than usual. They would barely see each other in the afternoon. Tony always occupied himself with his Stark Industries duties, there was always another project to look over or another plan to supervise. Because of this, he had no idea what Steve did in the afternoon. He may just sleeps all day or power cleans the house. All Tony knew was that when he came back up to their flat, Steve was already in the gym and there was one empty dinner plate on the table. There was always a note left on Tony's plate every evening when he came home, and based on the neat writing, he knew Steve wrote them. The notes never said much, but it was always a pick me upper for Tony at the end of his day. They usually said things along the line of 'hang in there' and 'hope you had a good day,' small messages like that, but they always meant a lot to him. In return, Tony would leave a note on Steve's breakfast plate. Well, breakfast bowl. He wasn't much for cooking, so he never made breakfast for Steve and had no idea if he even ate breakfast anymore, but he got the dishes out for him which must count for something. But as far as the notes go, that's about their only means of talking. For the past three days they barely spoke two words to each other, well, until now.

“Steve, I'm serious, stop it.” Tony scolded his husband, following him back over to the chain where Steve was hanging his undamaged punching bag. He didn't start punching it yet.

“Why should I?” He hissed, barely glancing at Tony from over his shoulder, “You're the one who never stops working.” 

Tony crossed his arms and placed all his weight on one leg. So Steve wanted to play this game, fine by him, “I work to support this family, that doesn't change now that-”

“Now that there's just the two of us?” Steve finished Tony's sentence and the atmosphere around them seemed to change. 

“Yeah...that.” Tony confirmed awkwardly, scratching his beard. 

“Don't worry, I'm use to just two.” 

Tony sensed Steve was hinting at something much greater than what they were already discussing, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Unlike normally, Steve was the first one to raise his voice. He turned around to face his husband, “I'm just saying that you're a workaholic, Tony! I practically raised Peter by myself because you were so invested in your work despite having enough money to retire twice by the time you were 25!” 

Tony narrowed his eyes, “Excuse me Mr. America, but I wasn't one who would leave for months at a time! Don't give me shit about leaving you by yourself to raise Peter when you'd be gone for months, leaving me alone to raise our son! To comfort him for the nights that he cried because his Pops wasn't there!”

“That's different! I only leave to go on missions, the world needs Captain America!”

“More than your own son!?” Tony was now panting with anger, his temper was something he was never able to control, “You don't see me gallivanting off in my IronMan suit every time there's a call for help! I go when I'm needed, not every time I'm wanted!” The husbands were now no more than 2 inches apart from each other. Tony was looking up at Steve with narrowed eyes and Steve was doing the same but looking down. Their hands were bawled into fists. 

“Well maybe the world just needs me more than it needs you!” That was the last thing Steve shouted, that was the last thing anyone shouted. Everything went quiet after that. Tony took a few steps back as his husband's words hit him like a slap to the face. He didn't bother to try and wear a hard expression, Steve always saw right through that. That's how he knew what words would damage Tony, that's how he knew how to crack the egotistical shell surrounding him. Inside was nothing more than a scared and insecure man with the need to feel praised. And although Tony would never admit to any of this -he has an ego to protect after all- anyone who knows him well enough could recognize his defenses were down. And that's how Steve knew he made a mistake, “Tony-”

Tony held up his hand, silencing his apologetic husband, “Save it, Steve. If that's how you really feel then I guess I'll go back down to my lab. Since, apparently, I'm not needed elsewhere.” Tony turned around and, without another word, walked away. 

“Tony! That's not what I meant!” Steve called, chasing after him But either Tony didn't hear him, or was pretending not to because he didn't turn around. He made his way out of the gym and down to his lab, Steve followed only a few feet behind, “Tony! Slow down!”

“Jarvis, please close and lock the doors to my lab once I, and only I, enter.” Tony spoke to his AI system but directed the comment at Steve. Two could play at this game. 

“Jarvis, don't do that.” At Steve's words, Tony turned around. Pausing right in front of the glass doors to his sanctuary. 

“Jarvis, please tell Captain 'everyone body needs me' America that my commands to you overrule anybody else's.” 

“Well Jarvis, please tell Tony 'I'm too stubborn to listen to reason' Stark that I didn't mean what I said.”

“Jarvis, tell Captain 'I think I'm the best hero there is' American that I don't care if he meant what he said, the fact that he said it is enough.” 

“Jarvis, tell Tony 'I'm too dumb to realize that I'm needed too' Stark that I don't think that because I don't think that I'll ever be half the hero he is! Tell him that the world does need IronMan but not nearly as much as I do! Tell him that I'm scared of losing our son! Tell him that I'd soon rather be frozen in another chunk of ice than lose him too!”

“Oh yeah!? Well tell Captain 'I'm too perfect for this world' America that I need him too and if he ever thinks about even stepping foot near ice that I'll personally unfreeze him just to punch his perfect face! And tell him that I'm gonna kiss him now because yelling is not the way I want my tonsils to hurt!” Not a split second after Tony stopped talking, he yanked Steve by the collar of his shirt and smacked their lips together. The kiss was in no way neat and Tony, as per usual, was standing on his tip toes just to reach Steve's mouth. Steve, on the other hand, was hunched over awkwardly and stumbled a few steps forward as he was pulled towards Tony. His mouth was immediately forced open by his husband's tongue and Tony's smoky taste filled his senses. To balance himself, Steve set both his hands on the doors behind Tony. This was a mistake. Forgetting that they were touch sensitive, the doors parted open and the husbands went tumbling to the floor. Steve landed on top and Tony smirked, “This is an unusual position for us.”

Steve laughed, but there were tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. With his arms wrapped around his partner's neck, Tony leaned up and kissed the tears away from Steve's eyes then leaned in and whispered, “I'm sorry.” 

Steve hugged Tony in return, burring his face in the crook of his neck, “I'm sorry too. You are needed, Tony, don't ever forget that.” 

Tony chuckled, pulling back so he could press his forehead against Steve's, the tips of their noses just barely touching, “You're sappy Cappy.” 

“I know.” Steve said with full confidence, but the blush that dusted his normally pale cheeks gave away his hint of embarrassment. A soft smile spread across his face as he looked into his husband's hard brown eyes, “Shall we head upstairs? I believe there's a bed waiting for us.”

“We shall.” Tony nodded his head and stuck out his arms with small, high pitched grunt. Steve rolled his eyes playfully and picked up Tony, carrying him upstairs bridal style. The two men made their way to their room and almost immediately fell down on their bed, landing side by side. After a few seconds of staring up at the ceiling in silence, Tony rolled over so that his arms were placed on either side of Steve. He stared down at his red faced husband with a caring smirk and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Love you, Capsicle.”

“Love you too, Shellhead.” 

Tony laughed and bent over to kiss his husband. But in a few minutes, Steve would be the one bending over, and there was no way in hell he was gonna be telling Tony to slow down tonight.

~~

Every day since Peter was sanctioned in the hospital Steve and Tony have been there during the visiting hours. They normally went in the evening for a few hours until all guests were meant to go home. Sometimes they'd go in the afternoon, just around lunchtime, but rarely in the mornings. However, no matter what time Steve and Tony arrived, someone was already in Peter's room. Tony was beginning to think Wade never left the hospital even when he was suppose to. Which, to the superhusbands, was weird because they thought Deadpool was suppose to be terrified of hospitals. So if he had a psychotic break down, he never showed it. This, at first, annoyed Tony. He hated Deadpool, always has and always will. Tony knew that he would never be comfortable with the idea of Wade and Peter together. But for a week now, Wade has never left Peter's side. Tony would never admit it, but something about that fact warmed something inside of him. But he was fooled by Deadpool once, thinking he would keep his son safe, so it was going to take a lot for Tony to trust the mercenary again. 

It was currently the 8th day that Peter's been in the hospital and he has yet to wake up. This, of course, set his parents on edge. The doctors assured everything was fine but they couldn't help but worry. That Peter just needed a little more time. That he could do his best healing in his sleep. Steve wasn't buying it, which meant that Tony had to explain modern medicine techniques multiple times to his husband. Steve still wasn't understanding so Tony gave up and told him to just let it be. Today, however, was a different day than all the rest. For the first time, all the avengers were able to come in to see their nephew. Well, at the very least, most of them. Steve and Tony were currently waiting for Natasha, Thor and Clint to arrive. Bruce was nowhere to be found, literally, they went looking for him. It wasn't unlike Bruce to run away from his problems, and there was no doubt he felt partially responsible for what happened. But it still pissed Tony off. Bruce should be here for Peter, the little squirt looked up to him, he always has. Which, if Tony was being honest, made him kind of jealous. Yes, growing up Peter looked up to him too. If Tony wasn't one for modesty (and let's be honest, he isn't) he would claim that Peter got his intelligence from him. But there was always something about Bruce that drove Peter to him, perhaps his more scientific mind. Peter was a sucker for science. Tony, while knowing a bit about science himself, was more of the genius engineer type. Which was how Peter learned to build his web shooters, not that the kid ever used them, guess he preferred o-natural. Which, in reality, was kind of gross. But no one can stop him. Speaking of which, Aunt May was also unstoppable. While she went on vacation for the last of the winter months, no one could stop her from flying home to come see Peter. Her flight arrived last night and the husbands were expecting her to arrive any moment now. But to their surprise, the rest of the avenger's team arrived first. 

Natasha came running in, a pistol in each hand, “Where's my nephew!?” 

Clint was only a few steps behind her, “Sorry we're late, we got held up because _someone_ doesn't understand that you can't bring guns inside a hospital!”

Steve and Tony exchanged a glance, both silently debating if they wanted to know how Nat got guns in here anyway. Instead, Steve asked, “Where's Thor?”

“Oh, he's helping May out of the car.” Clint explained and as if on cue, Thor and a rather tanned looking May entered the hospital and joined their little group. 

“The lady of the 5th month has arrived!” Thor announced, his voice as strong, if not stronger, than his body. May rolled her eyes but she had a flicker of a smile on her lips.

“Thor dear, I told you that you can call me May.” 

Thor nodded his head, “Very well, The lady May has arrived!” 

This was Steve's cue to hook his arm with May's and guide her away from Thor. She smiled her thanks, the god of thunder was always a little intense and loud for her, but he had a good heart. May hugged Steve, giving him a kiss on each cheek then did the same to Tony. 

“How was the Caribbean May?” Tony asked, his elbow now linked with the ageing woman. Everyone was slowly making their way to Peter's room.

“Oh, you know, pretty good I suppose. Lots of fine young gentlemen there, and Tony, the alcohol is so exotic. You'd love it.” May winked and Tony threw his head back in laughter.

“May Parker, you really are a cougar.” He joked but came to a stop once they got in front of Peter's hospital room. The atmosphere changed into something heavier and silence was the only thing that echoed in their empty hallway. May's smile immediately faded as she stared blankly at the closed door. The window was fogged so no one could see in or out. May took a deep breath. 

“Can I just have a few moments alone with Peter?” She asked before entering the room, her shaking hand on the cool metal door handle. The Avengers all exchanged glances, nodding in agreement with each other. 

“Of course, May, just call if you need us.” Steve smiled warmly and May returned the gesture before opening the door. She slipped in the empty room and closed the door behind her. Not seconds later, she realized that the room wasn't empty. There was a man dressed in red spandex pants and a hoodie next to Peter's bed, he was wearing a red and black mask. May gasped. 

The man was immediately out of his seat at the sight of May entering the room, her back pressed flatly against the door. She was about to call for help, but the man in red spoke first.

“May-Flower?” 

She knew that nickname. May tilted her head, her nerves easing a bit, “Wade?”

“Y-Yeah...yeah it's me.” He stuttered, which was unusual for May to hear. She had no idea what happened to Wade over the years, she didn't know if she even wanted to know, but the one thing she was certain on was that the boy she knew was never nervous. She couldn't recall a time that Wade stuttered or fidgeted around her. If she remembered correctly, Wade was always smiling. Even through the black eyes and chipped teeth he would always bring home, he never stopped smiling. But that was years ago, and the man that was standing before her was not the same boy she knew. He wasn't even the same man when she saw him a few months ago. There was something different about him. He seemed harder. Colder. Troubled. 

“Um...” Wade scratched the back of his masked head, “You can- uh, you can have my chair.” He stepped to the side, gesturing for May to take a seat. Slowly but surely, she walked over and sat down, her attention focusing on Peter now. Immediately she felt tears rise to her eyes as she took Peter's hand in her own. Wade stiffened beside her. 

“My poor boy,” May whimpered more to herself than to anyone else. Peter's hand was warm in her grasp, she could tell Wade had just been previously holding it, “What happened to him?” The question was directed at no one but from the corner of her eye, May saw Wade look askance. She tore he gaze from Peter's unconscious body to look at Wade, he did not return the favour, “Wade, do you know what happened?”

He stayed silent. 

“Wade.” Her voice grew stern, like the one she use to scold him with. 

More silence. His hands bawled into fists. 

May stood up and closed the distance between her and Wade. If this was like when he was a kid, she would have cupped his face and forced him to look at her. But now he was much too tall to do that. She settled for reaching out for his arm, but her finger tips barely grazed him before he jumped away. In one instance, May saw the boy she recognized from Wade's early teens. He has always been jumpy, especially in the first few weeks that he was staying at her house. And it took a while before he stopped being uncomfortable with being touched. He had no problem with May, he would hug and kiss her all the time. It took a while before he started doing that to Ben. So just now, as she saw him flinch away, May realized that Wade might not have changed that much. He was still a scared child. But even with this thought in mind, she also couldn't ignore the anger that was heavy in the pit of her stomach. Wade knew the something or the someone who hurt Peter and he wasn't sharing. 

“Wade,” May heard her voice grow desperate, the tears in her eyes ready to spill out at any moment, “If you know what happened, you have to tell somebody. Anybody. Do Steve and Tony know?”

Wade shook his head, uttering a single word. “No.”

“Wade, honey, listen.” At the use of his old nickname, Wade turned his head even further away. May called everyone honey, but he hasn't heard it since he was a kid. May had no idea the impact it would have on him, but even through the fabric of his mask, she could tell he was breaking, “We're Peter's family, don't you think we deserve to know what happened to him?”

“I...” Wade hesitated, casting a quick glance at the pleading aunt then looked away again, “I can't say.”

“Why?”

He stayed silent.

May sighed, she wasn't getting anywhere. It was time to give up. She turned around to face Peter's bed and the seemingly sleeping boy in it. She was standing at the foot of his bed, her hands gripping the plastic end railing. Thin tears fell from her damp eyes but they fell with the gravity of silence. Little did May know that soon thin would turn to thick and sadness would turn to anger. 

Wade spoke, “Weapon-X...they...it...I...it's my fault.” Wade's voice dropped low, but not as low as the pit in May's stomach. At Wade's words, her whole world came crashing down. Weapon-X, she knew that name. It was the organization that was chasing after the young boy she once took care of. Weapon-X was the organization that she tried to protect Peter from by sending him to live with Steve and Tony. Weapon-X was the reason why Peter could never visit her house as a child because another kid was already living there, one that was on the run from this blasted organization. And now May was here, gazing upon her damaged nephew, as she learned that all her efforts were for nothing. Everything she sacrificed, everything she had to give up in order to protect Peter from Weapon-X, it was deemed useless. A waste of time. Her grip around the bed rail tightened as each breath she sucked in became hot despite the cool temperature in the room. She didn't dare glance over her shoulder, she couldn't stand to look at Wade.

“What do you mean?” May asked but almost instantly regretted it. She could hear Wade's footsteps pacing behind her.

“Weapon-X, they- they got to Peter. Because of me. I didn't...I failed to-”

“This.” May hissed, interrupting a flustered Wade. She snapped her head around, feeling herself glare without even meaning too. May never knew what it was like to have anger control you, until now. It heats you up and fills your every limb with steam. Your stomach is the cauldron, burbling and churning with liquid rage, chunks of tribulation float on the surface of the never calming murky waters. And no matter how hard you try, you can't turn down the heat. Sometimes, May learned, you just have to let the water boil over, “This is why I never wanted you and Peter to meet!”

She couldn't read his facial expression, but Wade's body jumped back like he was just hit with a bullet. But that didn't stop her, “I knew you'd be dangerous! I knew you'd be a bad influence!” In her fit of anger, May started to approach Wade who, with every step she took forward, would take a step back.

“May-Flower, I-” Wade tried to speak, his back hitting a wall. But she kept going. She kept shouting.

“Don't you 'May-Flower' me! You have no idea what I've given up in order to protect Peter! You have no idea how hard I've fought to keep you two separated during your childhoods because god dammit I was not going to have Peter involved with your shenanigans! I was protecting Peter from danger, from you! And now it's all been for nothing!” She didn't know when, but during her shouting May had launched her fists in Wade's direction. He caught each of her hands by her wrist as she struggled against his grip. May closed her eyes tightly, heavy tears flooding from her eyes as she broke down, “He never should have met you! None of this was suppose to happen!”

At this time, Natasha poked her head in. Her eyes scanned the room for May, not spotting her at first, “Hey May? Everything alright?” When her gaze finally landed on them, she would have seen: a grown man, nearly twice May's height and May, a short, crying, ageing lady being held by her wrist. This couldn't look good. Nat didn't think twice about bursting in the room and sprinting over to May. She easily ripped her away from Deadpool's grip and in a second, had Wade pinned harshly against the wall. The gun that she used to get past the hospital security was now pointed to his skull. To Nat's surprise, Deadpool didn't fight back. 

“What the hell were you doing to her?” She hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowed to form a perfect crease in the center of her brow. But her anger didn't seem to alarm or threatened Wade. He had no reaction which made Nat curious to whether he even noticed what happened or perhaps it was even a Deadpool impersonator.

“What's going on in here?” That was Tony's voice, he spoke as everyone else entered the room. Steve was the first one to go over to May to comfort her, pulling her tightly into his chest. Everyone else just stood there, staring at Nat and Wade and the gun. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Nobody protested. The room would have been dead silent if it wasn't for May's muffled crying. Finally, out of everyone in the room, Steve was the only one to speak up.

“Nat, let him go.” 

“Not until he explains why he made May cry.” Although she was barking at Steve, her attention never faltered from Wade, “What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I didn't...” Wade stuttered. Shit. Now everyone heard him, how nervous he was, how broken. Deadpool never stutters, he's never nervous, he never breaks. No matter what, he always makes it seem like he has control of the situation. But he wasn't Deadpool right now. He hasn't felt like Deadpool for a while. He was Wade. Or at least, he thought he was. But he hasn't felt like Wade Wilson in years. He didn't know who he was. Maybe he was having an identity crisis. 

“Natasha!” Steve shouted, using his Captain America voice, “Let him go, that's an order.” 

Nat growled and begrudgingly stepped away from Wade. She spat at his feet, “Get out of here.” 

If Wade was torn, he didn't show it. But beneath his mask, his eyes went from the crowd to Peter and back again, “But-”

“Wade.” Steve interrupted, his voice going soft. His nod was so slight Wade had to second guess that it even happened. But it was a gesture for him to leave. Wade's head scanned the room, everyone was glaring at him. Everyone except Steve and, of course, Peter. But that's only because he couldn't. If he was awake Wade could place a safe bet that Peter would be glaring at him, yelling at him to get out too. With a last look at everyone's harsh eyes, Wade dashed out of the room. He disappeared around the corner and, just like that, everyone forgot he was even there in the first place. 

Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes, “I can't believe he was still here.” 

May turned her head from the comfort of Steve's chest, her reddened face forming into an expression of shock, “What do you mean, 'still here.'”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “The sucker never leaves. God, this must be the first time he left this room in what, 8 days?” 

This came as news to May. She had no idea Wade stayed by Peter's side for so long. And she couldn't help but wonder like a worried mother about the last time he ate. Has he even been sleeping here? May sniffed and wiped her eyes, torn between staying with Peter or going to apologize to Wade. She immediately regretted everything she said to him, it was all the spur of the moment. She was overcome by the situation, by seeing Peter, by emotions. Everyone breaks sometimes. Or at least, that's what May kept telling herself. The rest of her visit was spent in agonizing guilt. She tried her best to focus on either Peter or the quiet chatter amongst the room, but her sense of guilt was too strong. She knew if Peter was awake, he'd be staring her down. His soft brown eyes abnormally sharp, taunting her to do the right thing. Steve and Tony raised him too well. 

“May?' Steve spoke and placed a hand on her knee, shaking her from her thoughts, “Visiting hours are closing soon. We better get going.” 

May hummed in agreement, “I'll be out soon, I just want a few moments to say goodbye to Peter.” At her words, everyone smiled with pitiful eyes and left the room. May only took a minute or two to bid her partings with Peter, promising that she'll visit him again soon. When she left, everyone was already gone to wait in the waiting room. All except one person who was sitting on the floor just a few feet away. May paused, took a deep breath, then went to stand by his feet. 

“Wade?”

In an instant, Wade scrambled to his feet. May's heart stung when he pressed himself as close to the wall as possible. But it stung even more at the lack of her cherished nickname. 

“M-May hey- uh, I ah, um- hi.”

She smiled sadly, “Wade, about what happened-”

“No no no,” He interrupted, gesturing with his hands for her to stop, “I get it. I totally get it.”

She cocked her head to the side, “You do?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Wade repeated, shrugging his shoulders effortlessly, “I don't- I don't belong here.” At his words, May nearly felt her heart shatter. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I don't belong here, with this family, with Peter. I don't deserve to be by his side. You were right, May. Everything you said, you're right about me. I'm dangerous. I-I got Peter involved in things he never should have messed with. I never should have met him. I wish-” Wade paused, scratching the back of his mask, “-god I wish I never met him.”

May found it hard to study Wade's facial expression, especially when he was wearing that ridiculous mask. But she could hear the dampness in his voice. She could detect that falter. The lie, “Now Wade, I know you don't mean that.” 

“I do.” Wade's voice cracked and May could see the fabric beneath his eyes start to dampen. She knew Wade was crying. May's chest tightened as she took a step closer to the shaking man. She reached up and touched his face. He flinched beneath her touch, his voice becoming dangerously soft, “None of this would have happened if it weren't for me.”

May's heart lurched at the reminder of her own words. She had to fix this, “You're right. None of this would have happened. Peter never would have met you. He never would have gotten close to you. And he would have never learned to love you. He would never smile like he does every time he sees you. He would never be as happy as he is with anyone but you. I've seen the way Peter looks at you, I've seen the way he acts around you. You're very special, Wade. Both to Peter and to me.” May couldn't see Wade's reaction to this, but his body tensed up. She had enough of this mask, she started to slip it off. Wade was quick to react, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hands away.

“Don't.” His voice shook with every syllable, “Don't call me that. I'm not special. I can't- I can't be special.” Wade took in a short, sharp breath. Almost as if he was holding back a sob. His chin fell to his chest, “I try so god damn hard to fit in with this family. But you saw how they reacted. They take one look at me and all they see is- they just see how hideous I am.” 

“Wade you're not-”

“But Peter, he- he's something special. He's the special one. He sees something else in me, something I don't even think I have. Or, at least, I thought he saw something different. I'm not so sure anymore.”

“Wade-”

“I-I can, I can handle Peter's family hating me. They hated me even before I met Peter. But you, I can't handle that. I don't want you to hate me.” 

“Wade I don't-”

“And Peter. Oh god Peter. I can't have him hate me. But his face-” Wade hiccuped, fumbling over his words, “You should have seen his face when he found out what I done the first time. But now? God how am I suppose to explain myself? What happened? I-I can't see hate in his eyes again. I can't-” Wade choked on a sob, this was May's cue.

“Wade, honey, c'mere.” She wrapped her arms around him, bringing him in close. May was much shorter than Wade, even shorter than Peter, but hugging her was easy. Wade leaned down to let his head fall upon her shoulder as he wrapped his arms all the way around her petite body. For the first time, other than Peter, he cried in front of someone.

“I miss him. I miss him so damn much,” Wade mumbled into her shoulder, squeezing May closer to him, “I- I screwed up May-Flower. I screwed up so bad.” 

May rubbed his back soothingly, whispering in his ear, “Shhhh, I know dear, I know. We all miss him. But don't think for a second that this is all your fault. We're all a little to blame. And you know what?”

Wade sniffed, “What?”

“I don't think you're the one who has had an influence on Peter. I think it's the other way around. Peter has had an influence on you.” At May's words, Wade lifted his head off her shoulder so that the white eyes of his masks stared into her dull blue ones, “You're carrying all the weight, all the responsibility about what happened on your shoulders. Now who does that sound like?”

Wade laughed and May smiled. His laugh hasn't changed.

“Peter.” Wade shook his head, the mask crinkling around his expression to reveal a smile, “God, I'm turning into a 19 year old nerd.” 

May's giggle was soft, but her smile was apparent. Wade stared at her peaceful expression for a few seconds longer before hugging her tightly again, “Thanks May-Flower.”

She smiled sweetly before backing out, “Anytime Wade.” On her tip toes now, she kissed Wade's forehead, even with that ridiculous mask on. Their exchange of goodbyes were short but sweet. They parted in different directions. Wade went back into Peter's room and May went to join her group in the waiting room. After all, Thor was her drive home. But May didn't leave without one last glance over her shoulder. She saw Wade disappearing into Peter's room, closing the door behind him. This made her smile, knowing that Peter wouldn't be alone. But it also made her smile because she knew Wade wouldn't be alone either. Everyone deserves someone. And, according to May, Peter and Wade deserved each other. Even if they didn't see it yet. May knew now that she would do everything in her power to make sure that Wade and Peter would stay together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Symbolism!


	31. Chapter 30

Wade was terrified. Day 11. Peter should be waking up any moment now, at least, that's what Wade hoped for. But he also feared it. He was scared for when Peter would wake and see him by his side. What would his reaction be? Wade assumed the worst. Screaming. Shouting. Disgust. It wasn't even the disgust he usually feared. No, it was a different kind. One that made the other seem not so bad now. Wade's use to people being disgusted with him, with how he looks. But he was afraid that Peter's disgust would be just from seeing him. No skin was visible except for his ungloved hands, but Peter never had much of a reaction to Wade's skin anyway. No, Peter's disgust would just be from Wade's mere presence. It would be fueled by the hate he felt at the thought of Wade being by his side. Wade could handle a lot. He could handle Peter's entire family hating him as he said in the last chapter. Hell, he could handle the entire world hating him. But Peter? As soon as it came to him, Wade was lost. He wouldn't know what to do if Peter ended up hating him forever. And so Wade was terrified. Terrified that Peter might wake up and the first thing Wade sees in his eyes is hate. That same hate that was there the night of their fight. The night that Wade ultimately screwed up. So there was a small part of him that wished Peter would never wake up. It was selfish, he knew that. But he figured the pain of waiting was better than the pain of knowing. It was too risky. There are too many things that could go wrong as soon as Peter opens his eyes.

{Yeah, but he's not opening his eyes, is he?}

[The doctor said after 3 or 4 days, Peter should wake up. Well guess what?]

{He hasn't.}

[So what gives? Let's blow this Popsicle stand.]

“We've been over this guys.” Wade huffed, annoyed, “I can't leave Peter.”

{Yeah yeah, we know.}

[If you leave him you might never come back.]

It was true, there were two parts as to why Wade couldn't leave. First, Peter said he needed him. In his half conscious state Peter begged Wade to stay. So that's what he was going to do. God knows he disappointed Peter too many times already. But secondly was that Wade knew if he left, he might not have the nerves to come back. It turns out that Wade and the Big Friendly Green Giant have something in common. They're both masters at running away from their problems. And over the past eleven days, Wade would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to run away. He could leave this hospital, leave Peter, and never come back. He could start a new life back in Canada. Maybe on a farm. A snow farm. Those exist...right? But out of the sheer fact that Wade knew he might not return, he didn't dare leave. Because what if Peter didn't hate him? What if Peter was thankful that he saved his life?

{We're the ones who put it in danger in the first place.}

Not helping. What if Peter swooned over him because Wade was like, some handsome prince or something?

[That's even more unlikely.]

{He's going to hate us and you know it.}

Wade sighed, letting his head droop, “Yeah...I know.”

Over the past few days something unusual did happen though. Peter's family seemed to be warming up to him. In saying that, Wade just meant that he no longer had to leave the room when they came to visit. Everyone just kinda ignored him. Normally, Wade would have hated that. He hated being ignored. But he hasn't felt like himself in days, weeks, maybe even months. 

[You know...it's kinda quiet in here.]

“Thank you for that, Captain Obvious. There's nobody here to fucking talk to.” Wade leaned back in his chair, his legs outstretched and ankles crossed over one other. His right arm hung loosely by his side while his left was propped up against Peter's bed. Wade's hand was fidgeting with Peter's, their fingers almost laced together but not quite.

{You could talk to Peter.} 

Wade tensed then laughed it off, “Ha, yeah right. I'm not gonna do that.” 

[Are you still on that mom thing?]

“No, what 'mom thing' I have no clue what you're talking about. Besides,” Wade paused, going to cross his arms but rethought the action once he realized he would have to let go of Peter's hand, “Talking to unconscious people is pointless. They can't hear you.”

{Actually, people believe that-}

“I don't give a fuck about what people believe. I'm not doing it.”

[He's still on the mom thing.]

{Can he make it any more obvious?}

Wade grumbled and turned to his side as if he was turning away from his thought boxes. Okay...so maybe he was still bothered by what happened with his mom...but he would never admit it to himself. For those of you that haven't caught on by now, his mom use to have cancer and, once Wade's father finally agreed to let her be in a hospital, Wade spent a lot of time there. He was just a kid, 6 or 7 at most, and the doctors promised that if she heard his voice it would help. It would help her get through the hard parts. It would help her live. Well the bastards lied. Wade talked to her constantly. When she was awake, passed out, even through surgery. More often than not Wade just ended up talking to himself in the waiting room, but he knew that his mother could hear him. He talked and he talked and he talked. Nobody told him that his mother was getting worse. Nobody told him that talking to his mother wouldn't actually save her life. And nobody corrected his father when he said that maybe she died because Wade drove her cancer insane with his constant chatter. Wade hated hospitals and doctors for a few reasons, this was one of them.

“G'mornin Wade,” Nurse Katie announced herself and walked in with a tray of food. This was their routine every morning for the past 11 days. By now, everyone knew that Wade never left the hospital. All the staff just kind of accepted it and they even made pleasant conversation when they came to check on Peter. Katie was Peter's regular nurse and every morning while she came to check his vitals and all that doctor-y stuff, she brought some food with her. Since Wade never left the room, she never knew when he ate, so the tray of food always suited as his breakfast. She was a nurse after all, it's her job to take care of people. 

“'Morning Katie.” Wade nodded in response as she came and set the try down on the table beside him. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” She asked, making her way over to Peter and doing nurse things that Wade didn't quite understand. Throughout it all, Wade held Peter's hand tightly. 

“Umm, a little bit.” He lied. Another thing that all the hospital staff knew by now was that Wade never slept. He constantly watched over Peter, which always led to bad jokes about stealing the nurses job, but Wade didn't mind. Bad jokes weren't all that bad. 

“There's always that empty room three doors down if you ever decide you want to sleep in an actual bed.” 

Wade laughed at the offer, but there was no heart behind it. Nurse Katie finished up her check up, a moment of silence passed between them before Wade spoke again, “So uhhhh...do you think Peter's gonna...you know, wake up soon?”

She flashed him a sympathetic smile, “I'm sure it's gonna be any day now Wade. His body needed a lot more time to heal then we thought, but he's going to be fine.” She looked over her shoulder, pausing in the doorway, “Maybe you should talk to him, some people believe it helps.” And then she was out the door. 

{And that my friends is what we call irony.}

[So what's it gonna be?]

Wade groaned, dragging his hand over his masked face, “Fine. Fine. Fine fine fine fine fine!” Wade turned his chair and body so that he was facing Peter entirely. He held Peter's hand tightly within his own and took a deep breath. He hesitated, “Umm...what do I say?”

{Are we seriously tongue tied right now? We're usually good at this shit.}

[We're not usually this nervous.]

{Touché}

“Hey, maybe if you guys would shut up, I'd have figure out something to say by now.” 

[{Sorry}]

Wade sighed, his voices falling silent for once. The sensation was always foreign to him. It was like there was a low hum in his mind, never truly going quiet. Like a broken machine with the wrong spare parts. It ran, it worked, but not well. And Wade had no idea how to fix it. He had no idea how to fix anything. 

{Back to the point binky.}

“Okay okay, just, let me think.”

[Bad idea, just speak. You've done it before.]

“Don't think before I talk? Yeah, cause that's never back fired on me.”

[Just act like it's the last time you're ever going to speak to him. What would you say?]

{I mean, it could be the last time we ever get a chance to speak to him.}

Wade waved his voices away. They wanted him to talk without thinking? Fine. But there was no guarantee that he's gonna say something smart.

“Uhh, heeeey Pete. Um, I uh-” Wade grunted out the breath he was holding. He thought Peter was suppose to be the awkward uptight one. Talking was Wade's thing! Merc with the fucking mouth for Christ’s sake! He had to loosen up. He had to just let the words come to him. Talk to Peter like it's the last time. 

What would he say?

“So, I guess I should start with I'm sorry. Because I am. I'm sorry Pete, I'm- I'm so fucking sorry. I really screwed up this time didn't I?” Wade paused as if he was expecting Peter to answer. Nothing happened. He sighed. “Why did it have to be you? Seriously, out of all the people in my life, you're the one who had to get involved with the bad shit.”

{Maybe because we don't have anyone else in our lives?}

Wade ignored his thoughts, chuckling sadly to himself, “I should have gotten there sooner. I shouldn't have gone on that mission, I would have rescued you a day earlier. Or maybe I would have stop the fuckers from taking you all together if I would have just stayed home and sulked like a normal person.”

[Haven't we made it an apparent theme that normal doesn't exist for us?]

“Then explain Spiderman.” Wade didn't know who he was talking to now. Peter? His thoughts? Himself? “Explain why Spiderman is in our lives, explain why Peter is a part of us now. If I can't have anything normal, then why does he-” Wade let out a frustrated sigh, his grip on Peter's hand reminding him to remain calm. His focus now fully on Peter again, “Why do you make me feel normal?” 

Peter groaned. This would have excited Wade if it didn't already happen at least once a day now. Every time he thinks Peter is close to waking up, his sleep like trance takes over once again and Peter remains stuck in slumber. 

“I don't think you get it, Petey. I don't think you understand just how important you are to me, to everyone. I mean, fuck, you're bringing this sappy, emotional side out of me. No one else does that and-and it's fucking scary. I'm not use to this shit. But here I am anyway, spilling my feelings and what not. Why you may ask? Because of the delusional hope that hearing my voice might help you heal somehow. I'm sure as a person of science you can understand how fucking crazy that is. I mean, it's almost as stupid and cheesy as the ending of Rent. That musical was horrible. I mean, yay for diversity and stuff but come on! This second rate, 17 year old girl written fanfiction has more of a plot than that musical shit.” 

[We're getting off topic.]

“Right right, my point. What was my point? I don't really know, I'm just kinda rambling here.”

{You were apologizing for all the shit you messed up on.}

“Oh right, that's gonna be a long list.”

[Better get started then.]

Wade exhaled, he didn't know if what he was feeling was defeat or dread. And to him, it didn't really matter, “I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I didn't come to your rescue sooner. I'm sorry I didn't break out of that glass thingy I was trapped in quicker. I'm sorry I let them take you. I'm sorry I got you involved. I-” Wade choked on his words, apologizing was hard, “I never meant for this to happen, Pete. I hope you know that. I never wanted to fight with you but- but I can't apologize for it.” Wade hung his head, “I regret everything I said to you, everything that hurt you. But I can't apologize for killing those men. I was just- I was trying to prevent all of this from happening but- but it happened anyway. I don't get it. I-I thought killing those Weapon-X agents would stop all of this from happening but it didn't-” Wade's voice broke, his throat burning with everyone word, “Some hero I am.” 

He propped his elbow up on the railing of the bed, burying his head in his hand, “God what was I thinking? I could never be a hero like you Pete. You're fucking amazing, it's literally in your title. And what am I? A wanna be? A try hard? Why did I ever think I could be like you?"

{And toot toot goes the self pity train!}

[...]

{What??}

[You ruined the moment dude.]

Wade felt tears dampen the fabric of his mask. They were his tears. He owned them. There was always denial that came with crying. Wade barely ever noticed when, or if ever, he cried. But not tonight, not right now. He let go of his holds and cried. He knew it. He owned it. Wade was upset, so he let himself cry. It was a release that you can't escape. It feels so good yet leaves your body weak, defenseless. Wade knew he didn't deserve that release. He wasn't worthy of it. He knew he should punish himself by holding it in. He shouldn't allow himself to cry. But he didn't care. He was done being strong. He was done fighting. He was done being Deadpool. 

“I'm so fucking sorry Peter,” Wade cried, “I-I promise I'll make this up to you. Not just this, but everything. Every damn life I took, every stain on my hands, I'll make it up to you. I don't- I don't want to be bad anymore. For you, Peter, I'll be better. Good. I'll be good. I'm done with killing. I'm done with the merc biz. I'm-I'm done with all that shit, Pete. Just- god just please wake up.” He took in a sharp breath, his voice getting dangerously soft. He wasn't use to breaking, “I miss you Peter. I miss you so much.” Wade couldn't hold back his sobs anymore, he couldn't stop himself from shaking. The truth was, he hated relationships of any kind. Having attachments were weak. They were the key to let people hurt you. But Wade never knew the strength that came from loving someone. He never knew until now how much stronger he was with Peter around. Wade never knew how much he needed Peter until now. Wade hated that he got so attached, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it. 

“I'll be good, Peter.” Wade sobbed over and over and over again, “I'll be good I'll be good I'll be good.” It was a promise that he wasn't sure he could keep, but he didn't care. All that he knew, all that he was, was Peter. To have someone occupy your every thought, control your every emotion, to let someone have the ability to break the heart you didn't even know you had, was an experience that was new to Wade. And he wouldn't trade it for the world, “I'm going to fix everything Peter, you'll see. Once you wake up, I swear to fucking god I'll change.” Wade looked up so that he was staring at Peter's pale face before he whispered, “I'll stay with you as long as you need me. Then I'll be outta your hair the second you don't. As long as you want me, I'll be there. I'll- I'll be good baby boy, I promise.”

At his words, Peter's mouth flickered with a small smile and at first Wade had to make sure he didn't imagine it. Then Peter made a noise, not a grunt or a groan like Wade was expecting, but something that sounded much lower and more dragged out. A snore. 

The moment Wade was planning to savour happened all too fast. The seconds before Peter would open his eyes were suppose to go by in slow motion as Wade relished the moments before Peter's face would turn to hate. Before he would yell and kick and scream for Wade to get the fuck away from him and exit his life forever. But nothing went as Wade planned. Peter opened his tired eyes with a heaviness that differed from exhaustion. Wade couldn't tell if those were just dark circles beneath his eyes or bruises. He didn't want to know. And then, with a voice that sounded like it's been through hell, Peter smiled at Wade weakly and spoke. 

“Heh...'morning sunshine.” 

And just like that, Wade's sobbing stopped. The tears kept coming, but there was nothing in his throat anymore. No lump, no sob, no air. The shock that came with Peter's words wrapped around his neck and squeezed. He couldn't breath. He couldn't care. Wade recognized the words, he knew this trick. But he never knew how cruel it was until now. The night of Nick Norton's near kidnapping, the night of the bomb and the elevator. The night Peter had to watch Wade grow back literally from limb to limb, Wade pulled this stunt, pretending to be asleep. God. It wasn't fucking funny now. And it wasn't even morning.

Wade couldn't speak, no words would form. He was a blubbering mess. Snot was pooling in his mask and his eyes stung from the overflow of the new round of tears. Wade brought Peter's hand that he was holding to his face. Well, to his mask. But the point was Wade now also understood why Peter did that the night of the bombing. Because none of this felt real. Not even his touch. 

“God, please tell me this isn't a fucking hallucination.” Wade managed to weep out. To his surprise, Peter's fingers pinched his nose and an even weaker laugh came from the barely conscious boy. His voice was so low Wade didn't even know he heard it at all.

“didya 'eel tha?” (translation: Did you feel that?)

Wade's bottom lip quivered as he nodded his head. He wasn't sure if he was overflowing with joy or just upset, “Y-Yeah, I felt that.” Wade never knew happiness could hurt this much. 

It was only now that the seconds passed in slow motion. Wade was so caught up with the shock of the moment that he never realized the increased beeping of Peter's heart monitor. He didn't notice Peter's quickening heart rate. But when Peter's eyes started to flutter, when the pace of his beating heart really intensified, when Peter's chest started to rise and fall too fast, that's when everything got slowed down. Nurses and doctors burst in the room and Wade was pushed away from Peter. A bag was placed to his baby boy's mouth that was squeezed every few seconds and a light was shining in both of Peter's eyes. Only now did reality catch up to Wade. 

“Wha-What's going on?!” Wade hollered but when all the doctors gave him a funny look he realized there was no need to. Turns out slow motion makes everything seem more intense. Nurse Katie pulled Wade aside. He repeated his question, “What's going on? What are they doing to him?”

“Relax Wade, this is normal. It happens all the time after patients wake up from a long time of rest. The heart has to adjust to the body's conscious state after being in a relaxed sleep. The beat often quickens a bit so the doctors are just calming him down. Then they'll ask him a few questions, check his vitals, nothing to worry about. Alright?” 

Despite Katie's reassuring speech, Wade could barely pay attention. He rocked back and forth on his feet, constantly shifting his weight from one foot to the other and his gaze from Katie to Peter. But Wade could barely see past the doctors. So with his heart thundering in his ears, it was hard to concentrate on what the nurse was saying. 

“My name is Dr. Taichi, do you know your name?” The doctor spoke to Peter, still shining his mini flashlight in his eyes. But the breathe-y bag thing was removed. 

Peter nodded his head, “ 'm Peter.” He slurred.

“Alright Peter, do you know where you are?”

Another nod, “Hospital.”

“Good. And do you know this man?” Dr. Taichi pointed to Wade who was standing just a few feet away from Peter's bed. Wade held his breath. 

“Y-Yeah, Wade.” When Peter said his name, a soft smile took over his lips. And his eyes, there wasn't a drop of hate or remorse in them. Wade was beyond shocked now. 

“And do you want him to stay or did you want to be alone to rest?” 

Wade locked eyes with Peter and couldn't look away. He had no idea if Peter remembered everything that happened, he didn't know if Peter remembered the last words he said to him before he blacked out. Wade didn't know. And that was killing him in ways he never thought possible. There was no recognition in Peter's eyes, only warmth. And that scared Wade. He feared the pain that would come when Peter woke up hating him. He never imagined the pain that would come when Peter woke up and didn't hate him. It only added to his guilt. And Wade knew he would have to be the one to remind Peter of everything that happened, everything he's done. This was almost worse. 

“Stay.” Peter's voice was growing softer, he was getting more tired by the second. But when he spoke, the way he spoke, Wade knew it was only for him. Peter wasn't answering the doctor's question, he was telling Wade to stay for a second time. That had to mean something right?

“Right then, I'll be back in a few hours to check in on you. In the mean time, we'll contact your family to let them know you're alright. Try to get some rest Peter, you've been through a lot.” On that note, Dr. Taichi exited Peter's room and the nurses followed, leaving Peter and Wade alone. 

{Oh shit, now what?}

[We didn't think this far ahead.]

“Wade.” Peter called to him.

Wade stood still. Frozen.

Peter tilted his head, “Wade?” 

{Snap out of it shit-for-brains}

[Our baby boy is calling!]

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, Pete?”

“C'mere.”

Wade obeyed, taking his normal seat beside the bed. It was still warm, “Hey.”

Peter's smile was weak, “Hey.”

[Uh-oh]

{The double 'hey' shtick} 

Wade cleared his throat again, “Um how're- uh, how are you feeling?” He didn't know where to look, Wade found his eyes scanning Peter's entire body. Where to look, where to look? Peter's torso? Shoulders? Face? Eyes? Lips? Wade simultaneously fought the urge to huge Peter and the urge to stay back. The urge to kiss him and the urge to stay away. He didn't want to hurt Peter any more. He wasn't going to touch him, nobody was ever going to touch him again. 

“Tired,” Peter almost laughed then squinted his eyes, “And confused. Everything's a little blurry right now. What happened?” 

Wade felt his every muscle tense as his leg started to shake. Going up and down up and down, his foot tapping rapidly against the polished floor. He curled his fingers against his knees. Now he knew where to look: away. 

“Wade...” Peter's voice was lacking its usual edge as he placed his hand on Wade's.

{This doesn't count as touching him since he's touching us.}

[Good point.]

With an internal groan, Wade turned his head back towards Peter. God, the pained expression on his face was unbearable. Wade didn't want to look at it anymore. The feeling of Peter's hand on his soon disappeared and Wade missed the electricity it sent through him. Every time Peter touched him was like a jolt. It hurt, but it was worth it. 

“Why are you wearing this?” Peter asked and moved his hand up to Wade's face. He pulled at the fabric of Wade's mask and Wade flinched back.

There was that god damn pained look again. 

Wade opened his mouth but no words came out, just a hefty breath as he so easily gave in. He titled his head down and allowed Peter to pull off his mask. Little did Wade know that that would be the easy part. Looking up and facing Peter was much harder. He had no idea what his face looked like, what expression he was wearing, or how Peter would react upon seeing his face. It wasn't like it was anything new to him. Peter saw Wade unmasked countless of times and dare Wade admit to even being comfortable showing Peter his face. But there was always going to a flicker of doubt, a drop of fear, a pinch of worry. Maybe this time Peter would look at his face and realize how blind he's been. If not this time then maybe the next. Or the time after that. This fear would never leave Wade's mind, he would always be afraid of Peter's reaction. And this time, as Wade looked up, he had a reason to be. He saw the expression on Peter's face before Peter even knew he made it. He was taken aback, shocked, in disbelief. It was that split second moment before you realize what's going on, that little jolt back that your head does as if you can't believe your eyes. 

Wade expected to be hurt by this look on Peter's face. He expected his thought boxes to jump right on it with a bunch of 'I told you so's. But that's not what Wade felt at all. He felt confused. As if he couldn't imagine why Peter was shocked at the sight of his face.

“Were you crying?” Peter asked and Wade had to mentally slap himself to get him to pay attention.

“What?” 

“Your eyes, they're...darker. And puffy. And your nose is red. Were you crying?” Peter spoke as if these questions were the most innocent things in the world. 

And just like that, Wade felt like crying again. 

“Y-Yeah, I was.” 

“Oh.” Peter looked troubled, “I'm sorry.” 

{Selfish prick.}

[Peter's not the one who should be sorry.]

Wade barely had time to register what his thought boxes were saying before he snapped, “Don't ever say that again!”

Peter jumped, his hospital bed squeaking.

“You're not the one who needs to be sorry! Okay!? None of this is your fault! Don't-” Wade's voice broke at the look on Peter's face. Oh right. He hated yelling. Wade's voice calmed but still shook with anger and guilt, “-Don't ever apologize to me. Okay?” 

“But Wade-”

“Peter, please. Just, let me have this.” Wade never imagined that the day would come where he begged to keep his guilt. But as of right now, it's all he has. Guilt was something he learned to live with ever since Peter came into his life. The sensation, at first, was odd and foreign to him. But the more Peter, well, Spiderman rambled on about responsibility, the more it got Wade thinking. And when he hesitated to pull the trigger for the first time, he knew exactly who to blame. Wade knew now that guilt is something that stays with you forever, and that's why he cherished the feeling. From a young age he learned that nothing last forever, that you'll lose everything -and everyone- eventually. But guilt? No, that was something people carried with them until the day they died. Wade took comfort in the thought that at least something would be with him forever. Guilt, while leaving his stomached flipped over and a bitter taste in his mouth, was serenity. 

Wade sat silently in his chair, watching Peter fiddle with his mask, unsure what to say. He sat studying Peter. The way he moved, the details of his face, everything. And Wade sat there, pondering. Why the hell wasn't Peter mad at him? Even if he didn't remember what happened at Weapon-X, shouldn't he still recall what happened before then? Their fight, the killings, anything? Wade was too scared to ask, knowing the moment could change with a snap of his fingers. He asks the question and everything falls apart. His whole world changes with just a few words and he would be left in a world of what ifs. What if he never asked how much Peter remembered? What if he never reminded him? How long would he and Peter have until then? Wade knew asking him would be the right thing to do, but when Peter caught Wade staring at him and smiled? Wade fell apart. He couldn't do it, he couldn't bring himself to speak. And it was all because of that stupid naive smile Peter had spread across his stupid naive face. 

{His face is beautiful.}

Yeah it is.

{Then why did we say it was stupid?}

[Probably because we're nervous.]

No we're not.

[Yeah we are.]

Okay so maybe Wade was nervous, and confused, and scared. Peter didn't seem mad at him, Peter didn't seem to hate him anymore. And Wade couldn't figure out why. He deserved to be hated and screamed at and kicked out of Peter's life. That's what he was planning for. Well that plan went to shit. Wade didn't expect Peter to wake up and not hate him, so he had no idea how to react. And worst of all it gave him hope. Maybe Peter wouldn't end up hating him, maybe he'd get a second- wait no, third? Maybe fourth chance? He lost count after a while. But he couldn't ignore the glowing hope that was in the pit of his stomach and stringed all the way up to his chest. It was like someone poured chai tea inside of him and Wade couldn't decide if it burned or felt warm. There was also pop rocks in the tea. Lots of pop rocks that kept popping around in his gut. Or like someone blended up a rainbow but put ghost peppers in it. 

{And pop rocks.}

Yeah and more pop rocks. Lots of pop rocks. 

[Such rock.]

{Much pop.}

[So candy.]

“You look deep in thought.” Peter noted and Wade couldn't tell if he was just spaced out or if Peter yawned, but his voice sounded distant. “What're thinking?”

“Pop rocks.” The words slipped out before Wade could stop himself. He had the potential for such a cute and heart felt moment but he passed it up for pop rocks.

{You don't wanna know *Wade looks away*}

[Y-Yes I do! Wade please... *Peter takes Wade's hand*]

{-Pause for internal monologue about the break in Peter's voice, the sound of it, the very presence of him being here!- Peter I...I was thinking about how you don't hate me, but you should, because I'm a self pitying piece of shit. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, I hate hope, but Peter you're...you're the greatest hope in my world. I love you.}

[Oh Wade Senpai, I love you too! -Intense kissing-]

{End Scene.}

Okay, so maybe it wouldn't happen exactly like that. But it's better than fucking pop rocks. 

“Pop rocks?” Peter raised a brow and Wade immediately wished that he had his mask, but it was still in Peter's hands. His smooth, cocoa butter hands.

Wade hesitated before lamely admitting to his stupidity, “Yeah...pop rocks.”

Peter snorted and Wade had to rub his eyes to make sure he heard right. Even though eyes and ears have nothing really to do with each other. Ear-Eye coordination maybe? Like when you turn down the radio so you can read the signs on the road. It was like that. And even more shocking and confusing when Peter started to laugh. Wade almost forgot, Peter laughed at nearly every stupid thing he said. Which was a lot. He says a bunch of stupid things. And Wade almost forgot how weak he was at the sound of Peter's laughter. It hit him like a fist to the chest. It knocked the wind out of him and left him gasping for breath. It was like being held under water for so long but finally being able to come up for air again. And sure, you would be coughing and gagging, but the sweet taste of the air would be worth it. The feeling of relief, of release, it was worth the time being under water. Wade couldn't help it, it was Peter's laugh that made him do it, but he found himself smiling like an idiot. 

[We are an idiot.]

{Maybe that's why we're smiling like one.}

He couldn't stop staring at Peter and he wasn't sure if time slowed down or what, but Peter seemed to be laughing forever. Wade's chest ached at Peter's smile, but in a good way.

{Like pop rocks?}

Like pop rocks, exactly. He studied the perfect curl of Peter's lips and slight part in between his teeth as he laughed. And god with every passing second it was getting harder not to tilt Peter's head up and press their lips together and Jesus fucking Christ Wade loved this boy and it was getting harder not to tell him but Wade knew it was too soon.

[Too soon?! Try 30 chapters too fucking late!]

Peter's laughter died all too quickly and he was left wiping tears from his eyes, his head tilting back down to its normal position, “You are the weirdest man I know.” Peter stated something Wade has heard a thousand times, and yet, he loved hearing it every time Peter said it, “But I think there's a vending machine around here somewhere. I'm not sure if they have pop rocks but you could go-”

“No!” Wade, once again, let the words fall from his lips before thinking it through. Only this time, he jumped up from his chair too, startling Peter, “Uhhh no.” He hesitated, having only had one chance to save himself, “I can't...leave...you.” 

{Congratulations, you done fucked up.}

[That was not the explanation we were looking for.]

{Yeah, never use the truth to validate yourself. Have we learned nothing?}

Peter cocked his head to the side, tuffs of his 11 day untamed hair fell and hung just above his eyes. His stupid adorable doe eyes, “Wade, I'm fine..” Peter paused, his eyes darting to Wade's now clenched fists. Shit. His baby boy was a bit too observant. He only stared for a few seconds before his eyes went back to Wade's face, “Wade? You okay?” 

[...Do we tell the truth?]

{He'll know if we're lying, he almost always does.}

[I mean, we're never really 'okay' are we? Peter does know that, right?]

{If he didn't then that would explain why he agreed to a relationship with us.}

Okay, that was harsh. But Wade didn't bother to point it out. Instead, he looked away, his fists flexing, “Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?” 

“Why?” At Peter's words, Wade looked at him in disbelief. 

“Why- Peter you're in a fucking hospital bed!” He started to pace but paused when he noticed Peter's heart beat starting to speed up.

[Stop yelling at him! He hates that!]

Wade prolonged his frustrated groan as he -might it be marked rather childishly- stomped over to the wall and started to bang his head against it. It was to punish himself more than anything. But the pain that came from the wall was nothing compared to when Wade heard a pained gasp coming from Peter. Immediately, he was on his toes and alert of everything in this room, his mercenaries senses kicking into high gear. Wade spun around so fast to face Peter he was surprised he didn't get a head rush. Almost instantly, Wade had his gun out, ready to fire, and was pointing it around the room. But no one was here. No one was near Peter. What the hell happened?

“Wade!” Peter scolded, which snapped Wade out of his trance, “Put that away!”

He looked at his gun, then at Peter as if he didn't quite understand the request. Slowly, cautiously, Wade placed his gun back in its protective holder. He took a few steps closer so that he was standing right beside Peter's bed, “What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt? That's a stupid question, of course you're hurt. Jesus Christ Peter answer me!”

“I would if you'd let me!” Peter snapped back and Wade took note that he was holding his sides, his body propped up by one elbow. Wade's eyes quickly scanned the rest of his body before speaking.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I was trying to sit up a bit more so I could properly yell at you to stop hurting yourself. But uh, sitting up hurt more than I was expecting.” Peter let out a nervous chuckle and Wade a half annoyed half relieved sigh.

“God Peter, your bed does that for you! Here, lay down.” Wade didn't give Peter the option as he ushered him back down to his pillow. Then, with a press of a button, the top half of the bed shifting upwards, thus Peter was sitting up. And Wade try to stay frustrated with him, Peter should know better than to try things that might hurt himself. But the guilty grin that he flashed to Wade was too fucking adorable to ignore.

“Heh, I knew that.” Peter lied but Wade felt his expression melt into soft goop the longer he stared at Peter. Without thinking, he reached out and tangled his fingers in Peter's hair. He broke his promise to never let anyone touch Peter again, including himself, but as soon as his hand came in contact with Peter's messy hair, any thought of not touching him flew out the window. Wade didn't realize how much he missed the feeling of Peter beneath his fingers. He never knew that contact could bring this much comfort. And when Peter closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling of getting his hair ruffled, Wade didn't dare think about pulling his hand away.

He smiled softly, “Of course you did.”

Peter hummed quietly in response and it only dawned on Wade now that he must be tired. Sure, he was in a sleep induced coma for 11 days, but apparently that was different from normal sleep. He wanted to caress Peter's face and kiss him goodnight. Without realizing, Wade's hand started to slip down to Peter's forehead. It was only until his thumb came in contact with Peter's skin did Wade realize what he was doing and froze. Peter apparently noticed too and he opened his eyes. Every nerve in Wade's body was telling him to retreat, to pull back, but he didn't. He didn't want to. And when Peter only leaned in more to his touch, closing his eyes again, Wade knew he didn't have to pull away. He slid his hand down further until he was cupping Peter's cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb.

“Peter?” Wade breathed, his chest tightening. 

At his words, Peter opened his eyes and looked up at him. Wade nearly melted at the sight, “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” Usually here it would say something like, 'Wade didn't know what came over him when he asked that' or 'the words slipped out before Wade could give it a second thought.' But that was a lie. Wade gave it a lot of thought, he had eleven days to think it over. He knew what came over him, it was the fact that he went nearly two weeks without kissing his baby boy. It's the fact that he regretted every word he said during their fight and was waiting ever since to make it up to Peter.

“Depends,” Peter chewed on his lip, “do you mean on the cheek?”

Wade couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head, “No.”

“Then yes.” Peter's words barely had two seconds to leave his mouth before Wade's chapped lips were pressed against his. Wade kissed Peter like he's been deprived of water and only now was he quenching his thirst. Wade kissed Peter like he's been running from something and finally got caught. Wade kissed Peter like it was the only thing he had to do in the world. It was passionate, but wasn't perfect. With Peter in bed and him standing, the angle was awkward. And Peter's head was tilted a little too far up that made his neck hurt. And, with one more critique. It didn't last long enough. Their kiss was interrupted by the click of the doorknob turning. Wade broke it off, but not fast enough so that Steve and Tony didn't see what was just going on. Wade looked at the stunned parents, then at Peter. 

“Actually, pop rocks sound pretty good right now.” Wade half smirked before dashing out of the room. He didn't hear Peter telling him to wait as he shoved through Steve and Tony and ran down the hall. Wade's smirk immediately faded as he dashed for the bathrooms. He didn't take the time to see if anyone was in there, he just picked a stall and locked himself in. He slide to the floor, ignoring how dirty it was. Wade's chest heaved as he tried to ignore the heaviness of the situation. 1. He left Peter's side. 2. Peter's parents, Captain fucking America and fucking Ironman just walked in on them kissing. And 3. Wade didn't have his mask on, Peter still had it. He was stuck, and in all places he was stuck in a hospital's bathroom stall. 

With a heavy sigh, Wade leaned his head back against the door, “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wakey wakey eggs and FUCK.


	32. Chapter 31

The truth was Peter remembered everything, well, almost everything. From the moment he woke up, he knew what had happened. It wasn't a lie when he said everything was a little fuzzy, his memory did start to fade when it came to Weapon-X. He remembered getting captured, the endless fighting, the table he was strapped to; he remembered the knife in his leg and he remembered Wade. He remembered Wade running fearlessly inside the building of an organization he was terrified of. He remembered Wade struggling against the grip of 5 men in attempt to save him. He remembered Wade getting trapped in that glass container-like contraption and viciously banging against the glass not because he wanted out but because he wanted to save Peter. And Peter didn't know if it was selfish of him to think that Wade did it all for him, but selfish or not that's how he felt. That Wade rescued him because he wanted to, because he cared, because he was worried. But that was the thing about the rescue, Peter didn't remember it. He only had bits and pieces. He didn't remember being freed from the table or how they got out of the building, all he remembered was Wade's arms holding him. It wasn't that he remembered the arms themselves, but the comfort they brought. The comfort Wade brought. So when Peter woke up and the first thing he saw was Wade, he couldn't deny the happiness he felt. And that's why he played dumb. He acted as though he didn't remember anything. Because when he asked what happened and saw the way Wade pulled away, he immediately regretted even mentioning it. Wade never brought up what happened, he never brought up their fight, he never brought up them hating each other one second but being all buddy-buddy the next. So Peter didn't want to bring it up either. He just wanted one peaceful moment with Wade. Just one.

So maybe that's why they ended up kissing. And Jesus fucking Christ it was a good kiss.

Peter missed Wade, that was apparent. But it wasn't until Wade's taste was filling his mouth did he realize how much he missed him. From the moment Peter left his apartment after telling Wade to get the fuck out, he missed him. No, from the moment Peter read how many lives Wade took, he started to miss him. And that's how Peter knew he forgave Wade. Forgiveness is a weird thing and doesn't work how people think. Normally, forgiveness is something you're suppose to give people after they apologize. It's the whole 'I'm sorry for ___' and 'it's okay' routine. And once you tell them that 'it's okay' you forgive them. That's how it's suppose to go. But it rarely goes that way. Forgiveness is something you feel long before someone apologizes. It's a want. If you want to forgive someone, then you have no choice because no matter how hard you try to stay mad at them, you can't. Even if they didn't apologize, there's something inside you that just knows. It knows that you were going to forgive them eventually simply because you want to so why not cut to the chase and get it over with? But it wasn't always that simple. Sure, you want to forgive them but there's also that part of you that tells yourself that you can't. And that's how Peter felt. He felt as if he can't, that he shouldn't forgive Wade. But that doesn't mask the fact that he does.

So when they ended up kissing, Peter forgot everything. He forgot about their fight, about the hurt, about Weapon-X. He even forgot where they were because the only thing that mattered was that Wade didn't pull away too soon. In fact, Peter was so distracted that he didn't even hear the approaching footsteps or the click of the doorknob. It even took a dazed moment for him to realize who entered the room because when Wade pulled away and his head snapped towards the door, Peter didn't follow his gaze. He kept his eyes steady on Wade because he couldn't quite comprehend why the warmth of Wade's lips left his. When Wade looked back at Peter, he was smirking, but his eyes held panic. 

“Actually pop rocks sound pretty good right now.” He said before taking off, pushing past the people in the doorway and running around the corner. 

“Wade, wait!” Peter tried to call after him but had no idea if Wade heard him. He still clung to Wade's mask in his hands as Wade disappeared without it. 

_He'll be back for it._ Peter told himself. _He'll be back._

Peter sighed before turning to address his taken aback parents still standing in the the doorway. He didn't know whether he should feel overjoyed to see them, or completely embarrassed by what just happened. And judging by the blood rushing to his cheeks, Peter knew the answer.

“Uhh, heeeey.” He flashed one of his guilty grins to his parents and waved weakly. They both remained frozen for a second, but Steve was the first to melt. A warm smile spread across his lips as he came to sit on the edge of Peter's bed near his head. Tony remained stiff in the doorway, looking from Peter to the empty space where Wade use to be.

“Hey baby,” Steve's honey like voice pulled Peter's attention away from Tony. He reached out and placed his hand gently on the side of Peter's face, the tips of his fingers brushing against his hair. Peter smile at his Pop's touch. 

“Hey Papa,” He used Steve's old nickname this time on purpose. While missing Wade, Peter also found that he missed his family. It was weird waking up from who knows how many days of being unconscious. You get this strong sense of loneliness and you want to see the people closest to you to the point where it almost hurts more than the injuries you wake up with. So seeing his parents here with him, Peter couldn't help but feel like a little kid. 

Steve's thumb stroked Peter's cheek, “How are you feeling?” This conversation just happened with Wade, but yet it still felt different. The way Peter felt with Wade was complete. He felt as if nothing was missing despite the fact he was missing almost everything. But with Wade there, it took that feeling away. With his parents being here was a completely different feeling. It was like when your parents let you have a second glass of chocolate milk, or when you tell yourself just one more episode of your favourite show and the smile that spreads across your face when it starts. The comfort that Peter's parents brought him was like curling up in a blanket during a thunder storm. He felt safe, he felt welcomed, he felt like home. Which only made him miss it more.

“I'm tired,” Peter almost laugh as he spoke, leaning his head back, “And sore. I think the pain meds are wearing off.”

The concern that jumped into Steve's eyes only made Peter smile more, “Did you want me to get the doctor? He can give you more.”

He shook his head, “I'm good.”

“You sure?”

“I'm okay Pops, I promise.”

The worry Steve held in his eyes never subsided but his expression melted into warmth. He bit at his bottom lip, holding back tears that threatened to fall with every breath. His normally pale face turned red at his nose and just below his eyes. Peter never liked when his parents cried, and he couldn't recall a time that he ever saw them do it. Nonetheless, he didn't want his Pops to cry, especially because of him. Steve placed his other hand on the other side of Peter's face and pulled him towards him, planting a kiss on his son's forehead.

“We missed you,” Steve whispered, releasing Peter's face and letting his hand fall on top of his son's. He glanced over his shoulder with a slight smile and Peter followed his gaze, “Isn't that right Tony?”

Fear scraped its claws within Peter's chest as he noticed Tony's lack of attention. He was still near the doorway, staring out into the hall. Tony gave no response, barely even acknowledging that his son and husband were just a few feet away from him. 

“Dad?” Peter mustered as much joy into his voice as he could manage, ignoring the anxiety in his stomach, “What are you doing?” 

Slowly, Tony turned around to face his family. His expression was unreadable, “Shouldn't I be asking you that, Peter?” He paused for a heartbeat, just enough for Steve and Peter to register what he said but not enough time to respond, “What were you doing? With him?” 

In a moment's reaction time, Peter widened his eyes and Steve scolded his husband.

“Tony. Now is not the time.” 

“Now is the perfect time, Steve.” Tony began, walking over to his family with his head high and hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“Peter just woke up.” Steve tried to reason with his husband but he could tell by the look on his face that his efforts meant nothing. 

“Exactly. Peter just woke up.” Tony's voice started to get louder with every word he spoke, “So what was he doing kissing Deadpool!?”

“Dad-”

“What was he doing kissing the man who broke his heart!?” Tony turned to address his son, “He broke your heart Peter! He hurt you!”

Peter flinched at the volume of his dad's voice and he clenched his fists around his bed sheets, “I know but-”

“There's no buts about it! I don't care if that man waited by your bed side for eleven fucking days! I don't care that he never left this room! I just wanna know why! If he's supposedly cares for you so much then why did he hurt you!? He's the reason you cried, he's the reason you drank, he's the reason you're sitting in this bed!”

“Dad, it's not Wade's fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?! Mine? Yours?”

“Tony,” Steve cut in, “It doesn't have to be anyone's fault.”

“Yes it does! And I'm gonna go find the man to blame.” Tony spun around on his heels so quickly Peter took a moment to realize what was going on. Tony was going after Wade. The words couldn't leave Peter's mouth fast enough for Tony to stop. Before he realized it, his dad was already out of the room and stomping down the hall. Peter exchanged a glance with his pops before laying his head back in defeat. This was not how he planned seeing his parents again would go. 

“It's gonna be alright.” Steve's voice was soft as he rubbed Peter's hand, bringing it up and kissing his knuckles, “Your dad just needs time to process everything. The past week and a half have been rough for him.” 

Peter sighed, glancing tiredly at Steve, “Have I really been out for eleven days?”

Steve nodded his head, “Do you remember anything?”

“Yeah, but,” Peter hesitated, glancing down at his mattress, he never finished his sentence.

“It's okay sweetheart, you don't have to talk until you're ready.” 

Peter smiled weakly before resting his head back down on his pillow. Feeling weary, he closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep, still holding' his Pop's hand.

~~

Tony marched down the hallway. It wasn't hard to find Deadpool, he saw him disappear into the men's washroom. He burst into the room, the door flying open and hitting the wall with a loud smash before closing behind him. It was late enough for the washroom stalls to be all vacant. All except one. Tony didn't try to quiet his footsteps as he stalked over to the only locked stall door, pounding his fist against it. 

“Deadpool!” Tony didn't try to lower the volume of his voice either.

There was a pause before he answered and Tony couldn't ignore Wade's odd tone. He sounded breathless, “Yeah?” 

“Do-” Tony hesitated, his words catching in his throat. God he was going to regret this, “Do you love my son!?”

More silence before he answered, “Excuse me?” 

Tony sighed through gritted teeth, he didn't have it in him to yell anymore. “Peter. Do you love Peter?”

“Umm..” 

His patience was running thin, he didn't have time for this, “Just answer the question Wade. Do you love Peter or not?”

“Uhh, y-yeah.” Wade cleared his throat, “Yeah, I do.”

Tony didn't know if that was the answer he was hoping for or not. He continued anyway, “And? Did you tell him this yet?” 

“No!” Wade was startled, banging came from inside the stall followed by a curse before he went on speaking again, “No, I haven't. Why, uh, why do you ask?” 

Shit. This was the part Tony was dreading. He pressed his forehead against the stall door, sighing with defiance and defeat, “I just...I just needed to know. I may never get use to the idea of you and Peter being a...a thing. But I know Peter, and I know that he's gonna forgive you for all the shit that you've done to him. So I figured,” Tony paused, spitting out the words that tasted like vomit in his mouth, “I figured I might as well try to accept you. I just needed to make sure you care for my son.” 

There was silence on Wade's part.

“But I swear to god, if you break his heart again-”

“I won't.” Wade interrupted, his voice serene, “I _never_ meant to hurt Peter. I never want to hurt him.”

Tony thought back to what he said in Peter's room, to what he saw. He couldn't shake the imagine of Peter and Wade kissing from his mind. It was at that moment Tony knew that he would never be able to get rid of Wade. That if Peter was able to kiss him again after all the shit he's caused, there was no point in fighting it. Tony dragged a hand over his face, just knowing he was going to regret saying this, “I may not like you Wade, but, you're...you're not a completely awful person.”

More silence passed between the two men before Wade piped up.

“...Are you coming on to me Mr. Stark?”

“Wha- No!”

“Pop rock?” Wade offered and when Tony glanced down, he saw the scarred hand peeking out beneath the stall door with a bag of red pop rocks. Fuck this guy was weird.

“I'm good.” He declined the offer and watched Wade's hand disappear back into his stall, “Listen, Wade,”

“That's the third time you called me Wade.” He, obnoxiously, pointed out, causing Tony to rethink this whole thing. 

“Just tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean Wade. I want to know what happened. Everything. To Peter, to you. What the hell happened?” Tony wasn't use to sounding desperate. He wasn't use to asking for answers. He's never done that. Tony always had the answers, and if he didn't? He'd find them. Even if that meant confiding if Deadpool for peace of mind.

A soft clunk came from inside the stall and Tony could see Deadpool's shoes poking out from beneath. He knew Wade had his head pressed against the door. He felt defeated.

“Weapon-X.” Wade's voice resonated from behind the door and Tony never heard it so soft before, “That's what happened. Weapon-fucking-X got to Peter. I-” His voice broke, “-I let them get to Peter.”

_Shit._

That was the only thought Tony had in his head. That was all. Just, Shit.

“How...” Tony hesitated, he knew this conversation was hurting Deadpool. He never knew that was possible. Wade was suppose to heal from anything. Tony didn't know if his healing factor worked on words too, “How did you escape?”

Wade didn't answer, maybe he went too far? 

But no, he needed to know. He needed answers. So he asked again, “Wade? How did you get Peter out of there?”

“I killed them.” Wade answered in one breath, but he didn't stop there. He continued to confess, his voice slowly building in volume, “I killed them all, Mr. Stark. It didn't matter if they worked for Weapon-X or if they were a captive there, I killed them!” Wade slammed his fists against the stall door, causing Tony to jump back, “Once Peter finds out...he's gonna hate me.” 

Tony couldn't tell if Wade was crying. He never thought of Wade as a cryer, hell, he didn't even know he was capable of it. Tony wanted to know more, he wanted to know every single detail. What were they doing that got themselves involved with Weapon-X? What exactly did they do to Peter? How exactly did Wade manage to kill everyone? And what about the captives that Wade killed, why did they matter? Tony knew that in the back of his mind, he wanted to know all this to hold against Wade. And he actually felt a pang of guilt for it. 

“If.” Tony spoke, not quite knowing what he was saying, “You mean if Peter ever finds out.”

“...what?”

“There's no rule that says you absolutely have to tell him what happened.” Tony couldn't believe he was trying to convince Deadpool to lie to his son. Steve would probably say it was for some deep emotional reason that Tony didn't want to see Peter heart broken again. And maybe it was true. If finding out that Wade killed Weapon-X captives was going to crush Peter, Tony would rather Peter never finds out at all. 

“Are you feeling well Mr. Stark?” The worry in Wade's voice disappeared in an instant. In fact, there was no trace that Wade was struggling at all. How did he do that?

“More or less.” 

“Well, I see Peter gets his sarcasm from you.”

That made Tony laugh.

“Look, if you wanna come back into Peter's room, you can.” He flinched as he made the offer. God this was killing his pride, but he's been told that he should be taken down a peg or two. And, if it made Peter happy, he'd come down a hundred pegs.

“Actually...I can't.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-” Wade cleared his throat again, “I don't have my mask on.”

Tony didn't quite know how to respond to that, “Well, uh, where is it?”

“Peter has it. He took it off right before we started smooching.”

Tony groaned, “I get it. Tell you what, I'll uh- I'll come get you when the cost is clear. Okay? God knows you're not gonna leave Peter alone.”

“Damn straight.”

Tony straightened his back, tugging at the ends of his jacket, “But Wade?”

“Yeah?”

“If Peter ever says that he doesn't need you, you get the fuck out of his life. Got it?”

A sigh came from inside the stall but Tony refused to acknowledge any emotions that might have been attached to it, “I said it once before and I'll say it again. As soon as Peter doesn't need me anyone, I'll get out of your lives for good. Alright? But until that day comes-”

“-You're gonna be by his side.” Tony finished Wade's sentence, talking more to himself than anyone else, “Gotcha. I'll be back later, 'Kay?” 

“Okay Mr. Stark.”

Tony started to walk away but paused just before opening the door, “You can call me Tony.” 

Wade remained silent. Tony was expecting a snarky remark or a girlish shriek of glee. But neither came. What he didn't expect was the simple thanks he got.

“Thanks, Tony.”

Tony nodded his head even though Wade couldn't see the gesture before exiting the bathroom and heading back to his son's hospital room. Boy did he have some explaining to do.

~~

Peter wasn't completely asleep when Tony entered his room again. To be honest he was kinda faking this whole time. Peter loved his parents, he loved them more than anything. But he knew if he stayed awake the talking would never stop. And that was the last thing he wanted to hear, more questions. How are you feeling? Do you need anything? No? Let me know if you need anything at all, okay? Say, uh, do you remember anything? Of course he remembered everything. Okay, well, most things. He didn't exactly know, but how could he? How can you remember something you don't even know happened? So, to avoid all these questions, Peter fell asleep. Or at least he was trying to. And, okay, did he intentionally listen in on his parents' conversation? No. But they were whisper fighting right by his bed. How could he not listen to what they were saying? 

“Is he still awake?” That was the first thing Tony said once he entered the room again. The door clicked shut. Footsteps squeaked against the floor. And then there was a slap before Peter heard Steve's voice.

“What the hell were you thinking Tony!? Going off like that, yelling at Peter! He just woke up for Christ's sake!”

“Shh, Steve, you'll wake the baby.”

“Don't give me that crap Tony.”

“Seriously just say shit-”

“Tony.”

Tony sighed and Peter heard the faint sound of his fingernails scraping against his beard, “Alright, what do you want me to say? I'm sorry?”

“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. What were you doing anyway?”

“I was talking to Dea-” Tony paused, grunted, then continued, “I was talking to Wade.”

Steve let the silence linger in the air, a silent sign that he was waiting for more of an explanation.

“I needed to make sure he really loved Peter.” At his father's words, Peter's breath hitched and to keep himself from making any sudden movements, he held it. His sense of hearing kicked into high gear as he waited for his dads to continue talking, the paranoia that they might know he wasn't really asleep never left Peter's frantic heart beat. 

“Of course-!” Steve caught himself before he started to shout and lowered his voice back down to a whisper, “Of course he loves Peter, was that not apparent?”

“Sorry if I was a bit skeptical of Wade after what he's done to our son.” 

Peter suddenly didn't want to listen anymore. He bit down on his tongue to keep his big mouth shut, a trait he either picked up from Tony or Wade, he couldn't tell. But he wanted to protest, he wanted to defend Wade just like he always has. In an instant, Peter forgot about everything Wade has done, he forgot about the things he might do, and only focused on the flare in his chest that told him to speak up. To pretend as if nothing happened and fight by Wade's side. 

Steve sighed deeply, “I know, Wade's done some things that nobody should be proud of. But he also single handedly saved Peter and has been with him ever since. That's love, Tony. Whether it's just friendship, guilt, or something more, Wade clearly feels strongly for Peter.”

“I know, I know.” Tony stuck his hands up in defense, or at least, that's what Peter pictured him doing, “I just needed to hear it from the man himself.”

Nobody said anything after that. Maybe there was a silent exchange of whatever gesture in acknowledgement, or maybe a gesture of defeat. Peter didn't know, his eyes were closed. And he was suppose to be sleeping. He felt the weight on his bed shift as his two dads took a seat on either side of him. Two kisses were placed on his forehead one at a time, each one very different. The first on was warm and tender. It was a kiss that a hundred unspoken words poured into it and left a fuzzy feeling in Peter's chest. It was a kiss where the lips lingered for a moment too long, the hesitation to ever pull away present. But when they did pull away, a smile flickered at the corners of Peter's mouth. The second kiss was crisp yet comfortable. It was a kiss where more of the nose was pressed against his forehead and the breaths leaving it were shaky. It was a kiss where a thousand apologies never left the lips but were all heard. It was a kiss where there was a minuscule space between the lips and the forehead, where a wall of hesitation kept the two from coming into contact because they were uncertain if boundaries were being overstepped. And when they pulled away, Peter felt more tired than before. Whispers of words were exchanged and while Peter did hear then, he wasn't listening. A third kiss could be heard, but Peter didn't feel it. He knew it was exchanged between his parents, causing his anxieties to melt away. He wanted to be a happy family again, he wanted to be growled at for staying out too late, he wanted to go home. But most of all, right at this moment, the thing Peter wanted more than anything in this world, was to sleep. 

And that's exactly what he did. 

~~

Peter woke up to a black room. Actually, it didn't look like a room at all, but rather black mist. He was standing and the brace on his leg was completely gone. Peter squinted in the darkness, there seemed to be no end to it. And he seemed to be all alone. He was clutching something in his hand, Wade's mask. And it seems without even thinking it, he got the sudden urge to return it to Wade. It was as if that was the only thing on his mind, his sole purpose. 

_I have to get it back to Wade_

That was Peter's voice but it didn't feel like he said anything at all. He started to walk through the black mist, or at least, he was trying to. He could feel his legs moving, hell, he could even hear the unnecessarily loud echo of his footsteps against what he could only assume was the floor, even though he couldn't exactly see it. But the mist felt thick, as if it was a goop rather than tiny water droplets. He doubted that he was even moving at all. But the need to return Wade's mask to him kept Peter going. He kept walking despite not going anywhere. And just when Peter was about to give up, he saw Wade in the distance. Was it convenient? Yes. But Peter had yet to realize that this was a dream. 

_Wade!_

He called out to him. Maybe. He never felt his lips move but he heard the sound. And so did Wade. His back was facing Peter, but when he heard his name, he turned around. Wade was too far to clearly see his expression, but Peter saw it anyway. He knew what it looked like. Worry. Concern. Panic. To Peter's unsolicited relief, Wade came running towards him. Peter was about to pick up his pace, but something stopped him. He couldn't move. Something was keeping him upright and frozen. Tight straps placed themselves around his ankles, stomach, wrists, and chest. They were tight. Too tight. And came out of nowhere, almost as if they were made out of the mist themselves. Then Peter felt them. Hands. Many hands. Too many hands. They were touching him. He wanted to swipe them away but he couldn't. Peter didn't want to be touched. He didn't want to be touched.

_I don't want to be touched._

The hands wouldn't listen. They kept touching, and stroking, and clawing at places they shouldn't. And why wasn't Wade here yet? Where was he? 

_Wade!_

Peter called out his name again but it was to no avail. The straps around his body tightened and the hands became rougher. The strap around his chest was especially tight and when he gasped for breath, no air filled his lungs. He felt a hand clasp around his throat, squeezing it shut. He couldn't breathe. 

And that's when everything shifted. Peter soon realized that he wasn't trapped in the black mist anymore. And he knew now that he was going to miss the darkness of the mist. He was blinded by a white light and too many sounds filled his ears. That's when the pain in his leg started. Peter wasn't so sure if there was actually a light blinding him or if it was just the torment he was feeling in his leg. When his vision cleared itself up, he realized where he was. He was back at Weapon-X.

And just like that, he was trapped again. He was back on the table, strapped too tightly to it. People were all around him but he couldn't place a face. All he knew was the one that was missing.

Wade.

Where was Wade? He was suppose to be here. What if he was hurt? He was suppose to be here. What if he's not coming at all? _He was suppose to be here._

Peter clenched his fist, the fabric of Wade's mask crinkling in his grip.

_I have to return his mask._

Without meaning too, Peter started to struggle against his restraints. He knew struggling would do him no good, but he couldn't stop. Something else was controlling him. He had to get Wade's mask back to Wade himself. That was the only thing that mattered. But his leg seemed to disagree. It spasm with a new kind of hurt that Peter never felt before and he let unwanted agony leave his lips. He wished he didn't make a sound. He wished he could have stayed quiet. Because his wail of affliction called on unwanted attention. The hands were back. They were touching him. Peter didn't want to be touched. He didn't want to be touched. 

_I don't want to be touched._

The hands still didn't listen. 

_Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me!_

That only encouraged them more.

What felt like two large fingers were shoved into Peter's mouth, forcing it open and choking him. He couldn't tell if it was drool or blood that was dripping down his chin but when the drops hit the floor, they splashed against his leg. The further they fell, the bigger they got. Peter's eyes brimmed with tears but they wouldn't fall. He wanted to cry but couldn't. He wanted to scream but couldn't. He wanted to leave, but couldn't. 

Where was Wade?

Peter gasped as the fingers left his mouth and traveled down his trembling body. Unwanted heat rushed to unwanted places as he felt hands rub and stroke and palm against his crotch and he squirmed and tried to get away but couldn't. This wasn't suppose to happen, not like this. He was suppose to take Wade's mask back but instead he was cowering beneath god knows how many hands that wouldn't leave his body. Each hand, each stroke of redundant contact stung against his skin. It sent shots of pain like needles pricking skin. Peter was a hero, not a coward. He was a hero. A hero. Wade's hero. But he was failing. And He couldn't take much more of this. His breaths were getting shorter and the strokes were getting harder and his leg felt like it might just fall off. Peter felt the scream he wanted to release in the back of his throat, it started to climb. 

The straps holding him down tightened again and more hands came to join the party. They were all over him. They hurt. They were too rough. They were touching him. Peter didn't want to be touched. He didn't to be touched. He didn't want to be touched. He didn't want to be touched. 

He didn't want to be touched.

Peter screamed. 

~~

Peter screamed and his body shot upright. He panted, he couldn't breath. His mind was in a mixed state of panic and confusion. Where was he? He didn't know, he couldn't tell. For all he knew he could still be back at Weapon-X. Maybe he was. Maybe it never ended. Maybe there were still hands on him. Peter could feel them. The only difference? This time his hands were free. He could get them off, he could scrape them off. He had to scrape them off. Without thinking, he clawed at his body. He couldn't see the hands on him, but he could feel them. They were everywhere. His mind was running a thousand miles a minute without only one thought. 

_Get off get off get off get off get off!_

He was so delirious that Peter forgot to breathe. Or more like he couldn't. 

_Get off get off get off get off get off!_

Peter's entire body ached, but he didn't care. He had to get the hands off of him. He felt warm tears pool out of his eyes and a desperate sob escaped from his lips, but he couldn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything except his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The hands weren't listening to him. They couldn't hear him. 

“Get off get off get off get off get off!” Peter screamed out for real this time. He heard himself. And this time, he heard someone else too.

“Peter!” The voice sounded frantic, as if it's been shouting for a long time, but Peter couldn't place it. And before he had the chance to try, he felt hands grab hold of his wrists. And this pair of hands felt unnaturally real compared to the other ones. 

“Don't touch me!” Peter squeezed his eyes shut and wrenched his hands free from the grip. With full force, he pushed away whoever was holding onto him, he could only assume it was a Weapon-X agent. He didn't want to be touched. He didn't want to be touched. He didn't want to be touched. 

It wasn't until he heard the crash that Peter snapped out of it and realized that he just used his full spider strength. It left him panting harder than before, feeling like he couldn't breathe at all. But he wasn't the only one out of breath. From the corner of the room, he heard a groan. With a slight shift of his hand, Peter felt something cool beneath his finger tips, like leather. It was Wade's mask. He had to return it. But he couldn't get up. His body wouldn't allow him. Peter clutched Wade's mask close to his chest, his chin tucked down so he could breathe in Wade's scent. With eyes tightly shut, he tried to catch his breath, but couldn't. His heart was beating too fast and his lungs were asking for more oxygen than what was in this room. Peter just wanted to go home, be snuggled in bed, he wanted to hear his parents bickering just down the hall about something stupid and Peter wanted Wade to be beside him. He wanted to feel Wade beside him, he wanted to hear his dumb jokes and laugh till it hurts. Peter just wanted to hear the sound of Wade's voice.

“Peter?” 

Yeah, like that.

Wait.

“Wade?” He managed to mutter out, his voice muffled by his breathlessness and the fabric of Wade's mask. Peter, however, didn't dare look up. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah Pete, it's me. It's Wade. Can you...Can you open your eyes?” It sure sounded like Wade, but his voice was too heavy and damp. With a hesitant heart, Peter opened his eyes and slowly shifted his gaze to the side. His vision was blurry around the edges, everything seemed to glow, but he got the middle picture. Wade was kneeling by his bed, his brow narrowed and lines of worry creased his forehead. Wade's mouth was slightly parted and formed a small 'o.' His eyes were expectant, as if he was waiting for something that might never arrive. He was uncertain and doubtful. But the thing Peter noticed most was that Wade was pained. It was different from the kind of pain he shows that comes from his scars. This pain looked internal but physically hurt anyway. Like a heart break.

And his voice was no better, “Peter, you gotta breathe.”

Peter never noticed his stopped breathing, he never noticed the burning sensation in his chest. But at Wade's command, he sucked in a breath. It wasn't enough. He sucked in some more, but his lungs wouldn't fill. Peter tried again and again and again but no matter how hard or fast he tried, he couldn't breathe. 

“Peter, babe, you're gonna hyperventilate again if you don't slow down.” Wade stated, bit his lip, then added, “Here, can I...can you give me your hand?” The request seemed exceedingly simple, yet harder than anything he had to do. He tore one of his hands away from his chest and gave it to Wade who then proceeded to place Peter's hand against his chest. Peter's fingers curled, gripping onto the fabric of the unwashed grey sweater Wade was wearing. He looked at Wade, waiting for an explanation, “Try to copy my breathing.” With that single sentence, Peter now knew what to do. He concentrated on the steady rise and fall of Wade's chest beneath his hand. The notion was soothing, but there was static beneath his fingertips. He felt the beat of Wade's heart pounding. Peter could swear it was going faster than his own. And, if he was being completely honest, it was Wade's heartbeat that calmed him down. It was strong, prominent, and reassuring. Wade was here, he was here, everything was fine. Why fear anything when the world's greatest mercenary is by your side? Peter's grip around Wade's sweatshirt loosened as he laid his palm flat against Wade's chest. Now that he was calm, he could focus on other things. Like his motherfucking leg that he paid no attention to until now because god it hurt like a bitch. Peter inhaled sharply and his breath hissed between his teeth. Wade, alarmed, retreated backwards. Peter couldn't blame him, just moments ago he was screaming not to be touched. But now that he lost his grip on Wade completely, he never felt so far away. Hesitating, Peter pulled his hand back to his chest and then realized he was still holding Wade's mask. 

“Peter?” Wade's voice pulled him from the potential danger of daydreaming, “Are you okay?”

Peter gulped, his eyes involuntarily wide and staring off into space, “Yeah, I'm good.” 

There was a moment of silence before Wade spoke again, “Then...why are you shaking?”

To tell the truth, Peter never realized his body was shaking. He always thought 'shaking from fear' was merely an expression, but now that it was happening to him, he knew it was all too real. And the worst part? He couldn't control it. He couldn't stop himself from shaking. He couldn't stop his blood from running cold. He couldn't stop his courage from leaving his body. Peter twisted Wade's mask in his hands, the need to fiddle with something was prominent, but it provoke a thought in his mind.

_Return the mask._

Right. That was the point. The point of everything.

“This.” Peter spoke breathlessly. If he wanted one thing under control, it would be his voice, “This is yours.” With an arm made out of lead that shook like the earth, Peter slowly handed Wade his mask back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wade stare at him, then down at the mask, at him again, all before hesitantly taking the mask from his grip. 

“Oh...right.” Wade's tone was thick, carrying a burden of disappointment. It was cracked around the edges and slowly spreading towards its center of realization. Wade's voice made Peter feel uncertain, an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach at the thought of what he must be thinking. Peter didn't know. He didn't want to know. He couldn't even muster up the nerve to look at Wade right now let alone get inside his head. Hell, Peter didn't even want to be in his own head right now. Like storm clouds, thoughts came rolling into his mind, thoughts that he didn't recognize. Some were telling him to run, others were telling him to cry. A stubborn bunch was yelling at him to not show weakness, to stop shaking and man up. But another swarm of thoughts were telling him to hide. And lastly, the loudest thoughts were telling Peter to get the hands off of him, even if there were none. His dream was still sharp in his mind. He could still feel the heat of each hand on his body and the tight grip of every restraint. But he ignored them like trying to ignore the sun. It was bright, blinding, and too hot. But imagine some clouds and it disappears. Peter needed some clouds. 

“I guess-” Wade's voice broke just as his chair squeaked against the floor, he stood up. He gripped his mask tightly, his worry gaze no longer directed at Peter but down at his hands. Neither of them looked at each other, “I guess I'll get going then.”

And just like that, Peter's storm of thoughts struck lightning. It sent electricity through him as, while the storm was still there, only the lightning bolt got attention. Peter only had one thought in mind now. One word, one syllable. 

“Stay.” He breathed as his arm whipped out and latched onto Wade's, grip tight and palm sweating. Peter didn't know why this word had so much impact, as if he wad asking Wade to do the most difficult thing in the world. As if this request was near the impossible. But it's what he wanted. He wanted Wade to stay. 

Wade stared at Peter, his maskless face blinking in confusion, “But you- the mask- that wasn't?” The longer he tried to talk, the messier his words got. Out of all the words in the world, the ones he wanted to say weren't in him. Maybe there was just too many words in the universe. Wade's eyes never left Peter's face, Peter knew he was studying his expression. But he had no idea what Wade might be thinking. It bothered him sometimes, not knowing what other people were thinking, not that he ever wished he had mind reading as a superpower. Sometimes he just wanted to know. Could Wade see the desperation in his face? Could he see every line of loneliness or speck of reliance in his eyes? Could Wade know that Peter was silently pleading him not to go? Or was his thought process more like 'what the fuck is this boy saying?' Peter didn't know, and that bothered him sometimes. 

“Okay,” Wade whispered, never breaking eye contact with Peter. He could see Wade's body relax as he talked. It was just a word, one syllable, but the impact was heavy. Peter forgot sometimes the power of words. How just one of them can alter your mood in a flash. He forgot how much mystery words held, how many secrets went unspoken. Peter forgot how difficult words were, because as of right now, he was speechless. Throat tight, arm heavy and speechless. There were so many things to tell Wade, every question he ever wanted to ask him all came to mind all at once. The temptation to ask Wade everything he wanted to know was strong, but Peter ignored it. Sure he wanted answers, he wanted to know what happened after he blacked out at Weapon-X, he wanted to know how he got the hospital, what happened for the next 11 days, he wanted to know everything. And it was moments like this that came at the weirdest times. Moments when you want to know everything, moments where things you haven't thought about just randomly come back, moments where you have a need stronger than any other. But despite all the questions circling around in Peter's mind, he asked a simple one. One he already knew the answer to.

“Did you sleep?”

Wade was quiet for a moment and Peter was starting to think that his question wasn't so simple. “Don't you know me better than that Pete?” Wade's voice was sad, Peter didn't like that. He wasn't suppose to make Wade sad. He didn't know what to say next, especially since it was a rhetorical question. What was he suppose to say? Yes? Of course he knew him better than that. But Peter guessed that wasn't the answer Wade wanted to hear. So instead of giving him any answer, Peter (carefully) scooted over in his bed and tapped the spot beside him with his free hand, the other still hanging onto Wade's arm. 

Wade stared at the spot, “I don't think that's a good idea.” 

“Please.” Peter never liked having to beg, and he never liked being direct with his feelings. It was too weird. He knew Wade wasn't going to sleep, that's not why he invited him in his bed. Peter was lonely. That was the real reason. He was lonely and Wade was too far away and he just wanted to feel the comfort of Wade's arms around him. That's all he wanted. It was the last thing he remembered, that feeling. And he knew it was Wade's arms that brought him that feeling of warmth and comfort. He knew it was Wade who carried him away. He knew it was Wade who was the last person he saw before blacking out and waking up 11 days later. Peter just wanted that feeling back. 

Wade had that look on his face again, where he stared blankly at Peter before his expression melted. He gave up. That's what that expression meant, “Okay.” Wade said that syllable for the second time tonight. 

The process of crawling into bed was awkward. Wade was being extra cautious, Peter could tell. And he hated that. They never had problems cuddling before, well, except early on when Peter would protest, but they were long past that phase. He didn't want Wade to be careful around him, he wanted Wade to be, well, Wade. And an extra cautious cuddler was not who Wade was. Their position didn't turn out as Peter expected. He thought that they would be side by side, but Wade was right in saying that there wouldn't be enough room. So they went to plan B. Wade sat behind Peter and Peter sat between his legs. This worked. This worked really well. Peter leaned back and into Wade's embrace. Hesitantly, Wade wrapped his arms around him, but once he did, all tension melted away. And maybe Wade was hanging on a little too tight that made Peter's sides ache, but it was a good ache. And maybe Wade's breaths every time he breathed in were a little too long, but Peter didn't mind. Wade's face was buried deep in Peter's hair and every time he exhaled, his breaths were shaky against the back of Peter's neck. They both didn't say anything for a long time, Peter even closed his eyes, his nightmare seeming more like a distance memory. The silence was nice and for the first time in a while Peter really felt like he was alone with Wade. But the silence was bound to break, Peter just never guessed he would be the one to break it. 

“Do you ever have nightmares?” It was a question he always wanted to ask Wade, but never did, until now.

Wade's tension was back and Peter stopped feeling his soft breaths on his neck. He didn't say anything.

“Wade?”

He still said nothing, hesitating. Peter knew Wade was internally debating with himself, perhaps with his thought boxes too. He could tell by the way Wade was shaking his foot, he did that a lot, especially when he was nervous. This practically already gave Peter his answer, he knew what it was going to be. What he didn't know, however, was how heavy Wade's tone was going to be. 

“Yes.” Wade confessed, his voice croaked, “It's part of why I don't sleep.” 

“Oh.” It was more than half the answer Peter expected. Maybe he shouldn't have brought it up, but that didn't stop him from going on, “I thought you didn't sleep cause you don't have to.” 

“I don't.” There was no hesitation in his voice this time, “But it doesn't mean I don't want to. Sleep is fucking great.” 

Peter nodded his head, whether it was in agreement or acknowledgement, he didn't know. The quietness of the room returned, neither knew what to say. Okay, that was a lie. There was plenty Peter wanted to say, but he felt like he already said enough. It was proven, however, that people confess more when it's night and they're tired. But Peter didn't know if it worked the same way with Wade, “What are your nightmares about?” He asked but immediately regretted it once he felt Wade involuntarily squeeze him too hard. Now Wade was the one shaking. 

“Pete I-”

“I'm sorry.” Peter interrupted, “You don't have to tell me.” 

Wade groaned, “Weapon-X.” That's all he said, that's all he needed to say. Peter understood what he meant and so he didn't push the subject any further. It came as a surprise, however, when Wade kept talking. His foot shaking faster now and his voice, it was almost unreadable. But he was scared, or at least, that's what he sounded like, “Peter did-...did you have a nightmare?” 

Peter thought that was obvious from the start, but then he understood what Wade was really asking. Did he have a nightmare about Weapon-X too? 

“Yes.” Peter answered and hated that he couldn't see Wade's face right now.

“Sh-Shit.” It sounded like he was crying, but Peter didn't feel any tears dampen his head, “You're not suppose to be the one with nightmares.” 

Peter didn't know how to react to that. One part of him felt as if he should apologize, and another part felt as if he needed to comfort Wade. But his head felt heavy and his eyes were begging to be closed again. He wasn't much of a comforter when he wasn't half asleep, so he was even worse now, “Wade? Do your scars ever hurt after a nightmare?”

Wade took a sharp inhale of breath, delaying his response. Peter felt Wade's biceps flex, tensing and releasing every few seconds as he shifted uncomfortably. Peter leaned his head back against Wade's shoulder, getting a glimpse of his face. His expression wasn't readable from this angle.

“Yeah, why? Does your leg hurt?” He was trying to keep the weariness out of his voice, it being unnaturally steady.

“Like a bitch.” Peter spoke absentmindedly as his leg flared up. It was sore and itchy all at once. It felt as if he's been running for hours with no rest. Peter closed his eyes. The image of him fighting off all the Weapon-X agents flashed in his mind. He flinched. Wade's arms got tighter around Peter's body.

“I'm sorry...” Wade whispered, his voice quivering and his forehead planted on Peter's opposite shoulder. He had no idea what Wade was apologizing for, and yet he felt as if he did know, “I'll be good.” 

“I know,” Peter repeated, his breath delicate, “I know.”

It was true, Peter did know.

He knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up pass my bedtime to post this chapter, fuck you mom


	33. Chapter 32

Peter loved to read. Wade found that out over the next few days that they had to stay in the hospital. Everyday he seemed to have a new book in his hands, getting them from the hospital's staff or his family that came to see him. Wade always pictured Peter as a science reader, like one of those nerds that only read text books or educational stuff. A real non fiction fan. But that wasn't the case at all. Peter loved fiction. He seemed to get lost in a book, his eyes scanning the pages as if they were food and he hasn't eaten in days. And the look on his face every time he read a book, Wade could stare at it for hours. It was beautiful. The way his expression molded to each emotion in the novel, Wade's heart would stop nearly every time. It was love that Peter felt towards his books, towards the words he was reading. Wade could see it on his face. And it was fascinating. To watch someone fall in love with words, to obsess and hurt over sentences, to have phrasing flood their senses, it was something Wade could watch forever. And sure, he felt a little ridiculous for being jealous of a book. What he wouldn't give for Peter to look at him like that. And maybe sometimes he did. Wade could swear the he caught glimpses of that love in Peter's eyes as he looked at him. But Wade wouldn't admit it to himself. It didn't feel right.

“How was your book?” Wade would ask every time Peter finished one. The first few times he would tell him, going on a passionate rant. And Wade would be captivated. Like, holy shit hearing Peter talk with such passion was like a song and Wade never wanted it to end. 

But after completing his third book, Peter asked, “Why don't you read one?” 

“I don't read.” Wade had replied, and he wasn't lying. 

“Can you read?”

[Of course we can read, this isn't some Beauty and the Beast au]

{Awww, those are so cute!}

“Yeah,” Wade was much less enthusiastic than his thought boxes, “It's just not my thing.” He wished he liked reading. He wished he could fall in love with words the way people fall in love with each other. But for him, the passion wasn't there. He couldn't devote himself to a book long enough to keep interest. So while Peter read, Wade would watch. For the first time in his life, Wade didn't talk much. He's been left speechless before, but it only ever lasted for a few seconds. Now it was days. He went days where he didn't feel like talking. Maybe because he was too busy watching Peter, maybe it was because he didn't want to interrupt his reading. Wade didn't know. All he knew was that it was rarely him ever starting the conversations. 

“For someone who doesn't read,” Peter had stated, it was just a few hours before he got released from the hospital, “You sure do love to stare at books.”

Wade merely laughed at that, a hearty chuckle at best. Was Peter really so naive with the thought that it was the books he was staring at? God, he was so wrong. Wade didn't give two shits about the books. All his shits were given to Peter. He had Wade's undivided attention. Besides, he couldn't watch over Peter and read at the same time. Peter got all of his devotion. He couldn't waste it on a book.

But now it was the day Peter was being released from the hospital and Wade was a nervous wreck. Everyone was here, so Wade's protectiveness was sky rocketing. They all wanted to touch and hug and kiss Peter. The kid couldn't even fucking stand. Wade was persistent on being the one who pushed his wheelchair. Although Peter had full use of his arms, Wade wasn't taking any chances. And if someone got too close? Maybe he would “accidentally” roll over their fucking foot. Imagine that, an Avenger being taken down by a wheelchair. 

“Really, Wade, you've done enough. I can take it from here.” Steve had tried to offer to push the wheelchair before they left the room and went to meet everyone in the waiting area. Only Steve, Tony, Peter and Wade were in the room at the time, the rest of the Avengers (+Aunt May!) were sitting in the waiting room. 

“No. I said I got it.” That was Wade's reply. Short. Gloomy. And he kept his head down. There was no need to hide his face, his mask was doing that job for him. But looking up, facing everyone, it didn't seem possible. Sometimes the smallest tasks, like keeping your head high, were the hardest. Wade saw everyone in the room exchange an odd look, Peter merely shrugging his shoulders as if to say it's best not to question it. 

So Wade was the one to push Peter out of the room, down the hall, and into the mayhem that was his family. Full of smiles and pats on the back, of 'congratulation kiddo' and 'you're tougher than you look.' Wade hated it, he hated them all. Smiling at Peter, looking at if they knew he'd make it all long. It was lies, all of it was lies. Wade knew he wasn't the only one who had been a mess. Everyone was freaking out, everyone cried for 11 days straight. But not everyone stayed with Peter 24 hours a day for 11 days. 11 fucking days. And then 4 days after that when he was actually conscious. They weren't the ones who coached him through every nightmare, they weren't the ones who had to hear Peter scream about 'the hands' touching him all over. So what right did they have? What right did any of them have by clasping Peter on his shoulder or ruffling his hair? They had no right to touch him!

“Wade?” It was Peter's voice, and only Peter's voice, that could pull Wade from one of his trances.

“Huh?” Wade muttered, staring at Peter's leg that was sticking out like an unbent paper clip. He still had to wear that brace that kept him from moving his leg. It was the tap on Wade's hand that pulled his attention from Peter's leg to the crowd above him. Much like the mountain of flowers that was in Peter's lap, May was still holding one last bouquet. It seemed like just a few days ago all the Avengers were yelling at him, it was weird to see them all smiling at him now. 

The heels of May's shoes clicked against the floor, sounding a little too loud in Wade's ears. So loud to the point that they didn't sound real. None of this felt real. He could barely hear the words May was saying, let alone comprehend when she placed the flowers in his arms.

“These are for you, from all of us.” May smiled. Everyone was smiling. Everyone, except for Wade. 

“For me? W-Why? I don't- but I- I-I...I don't- I mean-” Wade was a stuttering mess, only shutting up when May kissed his masked cheek. 

“They're for taking such good care of our Peter.” 

Wade didn't know what to say, he just kept staring down at the colourful arrangements of flowers he had placed in the crook of his elbow. How was someone suppose to react when given flowers? He had no fucking clue, it never happened to him before. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time he got a present that wasn't a bullet wound. Nothing like a gunshot for the holidays! But flowers? No way. And this gift, it did something to him. It warmed his chest but made it hurt like hell at the same time. 

[Maybe we should give a speech?]

{I would like to thank the academy...} 

Thanking them. That would be a good start. 

“Um, I uh...” Wade cleared his throat, “Thank you.” It didn't come out like he planned. It didn't sound as gracious as he felt. Instead, his thanks came out small, pathetic, almost like a whisper. He couldn't keep his head up, he couldn't look anyone in the eyes. 

May chuckled, her heart light, “Don't thank me, it was all Ms. Natasha's idea.” 

Now Wade had to glance up, just for a second. He looked at Nat.

Nat? This was all her doing? 

She crossed her arms and blew a piece of her velvet hair from her face, challenging him to say something. Almost daring him to. 

Wade was speechless. He felt like crying. 

The next moments were a blur in Wade's memory. He didn't know exactly how everyone got to the point of saying their goodbyes, hell, he didn't even remember wheeling Peter out of the hospital. They were generic moments. Waving off Peter's family as they each got into their cars and drove off, wishing Peter the best and promising they'll visit him soon. Wade knew they happened but his head was still back in the hospital waiting room. His head was still in the flowers. His flowers. They gave him flowers. 

But now Peter's family was gone and Wade came out of his thoughts for a little while. He wanted to remember this moment. He wanted to remember how light Peter's body felt in his arms as he scooped him out of his wheelchair. He wanted to remember how Peter seemed to cling to him a little more tightly than what was necessary. He wanted to remember the look on Peter's face as his dads opened the car door for them and they slid inside. Peter laid down in the back seat, leg outstretched and head in Wade's lap. But most importantly, Wade wanted to remember the regret. He wanted to remember the guilt. He wanted to remember every damn feeling he felt as Tony drove away from the hospital, one hand on the wheel and the other holding onto Steve's. 

“Where are you?” Peter asked and Wade tore his dead gaze from the window and onto Peter's curious face. He didn't know if it was the soft orange glow from the setting sun that cascaded over Peter's features, but in that moment, Wade's breath was taken away. He felt his heart in his throat and the only thought occupying his mind was Shit. Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit. He loved this boy. 

Fuck. 

“Where are you?” Peter repeated.

“What do you mean?” 

“You're in your head again. What are you thinking?” Peter took Wade's hand in his. His touch was soft, his grasp gentle. 

{How badly we wanna fuck you.}

[Use the term 'make love', it's much more romantic.]

“Are your thought boxes behaving?”

Wade couldn't help but chuckle. He took his free hand and ran it through Peter's hair, “More or less.” His response was simple, like Peter's smile, but held a meaning to it. 

Shit. He loved this boy. 

“You seem to go there a lot lately.” Peter kept talking, but he stayed quiet so his parents couldn't hear what they were saying. It was like a whole other world in the backseat of a car.

“In my thoughts?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you do that?”

“What? Think? I'm sure you get lost in space too sometimes baby boy.” Baby boy. It was a nickname he hasn't used in a while. He missed it. And maybe Peter missed it too.

“Yeah, but not for four days straight.”

“Four days?”

“When you watch me read, you're off in your own head.”

“Well I have a feeling I'll be watching you read a lot more considering you're bed ridden for a month.”

“Yeah.”

“Could be worse.”

“Yeah...” After a moment of hesitation, Peter asked, “Is it lonely? In your head?” The way Peter said it, it broke Wade's heart. 

“I mean, I got two voices in there, so not really.” 

“Are you lonely?” Peter's eyes showed the sadness that his voice didn't. Wade stared at his hand in Peter's hair instead of his eyes, focusing on untangling it. 

“Yeah.” Wade nodded his his. He was lonely. He was always lonely. 

“I'm sorry.” 

“Don't say that.”

“Sorry.”

“Peter.”

It was silent, then they busted out laughing. For no reason. They laughed and they laughed and they laughed. Steve and Tony both glanced back at them in the rear-view mirror but didn't question it. 

God, Wade loved Peter's laughter. 

Shit. He loved this boy.

~~

“He's stealing our son from us.” Tony complained, but unlike usual, the hate was missing from his voice.

“He's not stealing our son, Wade's just helping us.” Leave it up to Steve to come to his defense. Wade grinned at the blonde capped Captain. 

{Ew, work on better name.}

[Yeah, that's like a B+ for word play.]

“I mean, Tony might have a point. I would totally steal Peter.” Wade joked along, it's what he does best. 

“Hey, you know Peter would really appreciate it if he wasn't getting talked about as if he wasn't here at all.” Peter's voice also lacked the annoyance it usually held. He crossed his arms over his chest and Wade had to admit, he looked fucking adorable. Arms crossed, grouchy, and all while being carried like a princess by yours' truly.

“You know we love you.” Tony ruffled his sons hair before stepping away and into his husbands arms.

“You know what I love?” Peter challenged, “Being clean.” He glanced at Wade, tapping his hand against his shoulder, “To the bathroom?” 

“To the tub we go!” Wade was shocked about how much cheeriness he mustered into his tone. 

{Hehe, mustard.}

[Jesus Christ...]

Wade would have skipped merrily to the bathroom if he weren't scared of all the movement hurting Peter. Was he excited that he would get to bath his baby boy? Or at least watch? Supervise. Supervise is a better word. Was he excited that he would get to supervise his baby boy in the tub? Yes, Wade admits it. He was ecstatic.

[Think we're gonna get a boner?]

{Fuck yeah!}

[But we can't have tub sex, Peter's too delicate right now.]

Wade was glad that that thought was in his head instead of his mouth. If he let slip that Peter was 'delicate,' he was sure he would have gotten a fist to the face. So he kept quiet as he, if Wade does say so himself, skillfully opened the bathroom door with his foot. The tub had already been running and was done filling up. 

“Pete, stick your good leg in there and tell me if it's too hot.”

And so he did, swinging his leg down from Wade's arms and gracefully dipping his toe in the water. Wade noticed that Peter's hairs stood on end.

“It's warm.” Peter's voice was faint and Wade could feel the awkward-happy atmosphere starting to fade. It just occurred to him that Peter might be scared. And he just realized he was fucking terrified too. 

Wade let the silence linger. Even when he spoke, it was quiet, “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Neither one of them spoke as he carefully placed Peter in an upright position, he having to put slight pressure on his good leg while leaning heavily on Wade. Cautiously, Wade slowly ripped off Peter's hospital gown, closed back unfortunately. He tossed it aside along with his gaze. Despite Wade's mask hiding his reddening face, he was paranoid that Peter could feel the heat coming off of him. Peter was then warily placed into the tub, he had to lower himself in while Wade held his bad leg. The brace couldn't get wet. Hesitantly, Wade unstrapped the brace from Peter's leg and was suppose to lower it into the water, but he didn't. Wade froze. 

He saw it.

For the first time, Wade saw it.

Peter's scar. 

It was thin, but long. It ran down his entire leg, starting at his ankle and ended upper thigh. Wade wanted to puke. It was white like the moon against the night sky, almost glowing. And it branched off with minuscule lines in every direct, looking like a centipede’s legs. On Peter's thigh was where the white scar became vibrant and cracked. It was where the knife plunged the deepest. Around the scar was red, and black, and blue, and horribly swollen. It stuck out like a tube on Peter's leg, almost as if he had a metal bar lodged in his skin. It looked awful. It looked painful. It looked hideous. Peter's skin. Peter's beautiful skin that brought tears to Wade's eyes, was flawed. And it was flawed because of him.

“Wade.” Peter's whisper was so soft Wade almost didn't hear him. He didn't look up. He didn't say anything. He couldn't. 

In that moment, Peter reached up and, with a delicate sadness, pulled off Wade's mask. God Wade hated when he did that. He hated that he trusted Peter enough to be maskless around him. He hated that even though there will always be a flicker of doubt coiling in his stomach, he wasn't mad whenever Peter pulled off his mask. He hated that he let it get to this point, that he let it get this far. 

Shit. He loved this boy. 

And now look what he's done to him. 

{Look up. Look at Peter's leg.}

No. He didn't want to.

[Look up you bastard. Look what you did to Peter!]

Wade clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth. No. He didn't want to look up. He didn't want to see the real effect that this whole thing had on Peter. On his Peter. 

Wade wanted to cry.

He wouldn't let himself.

“Wade.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Wade, don't. It's not your fault.”

“Yes it is.”

“Wade.”

He lowered Peter's leg into the tub. More tears gathered in his eyes as he heard Peter's hiss of pain, nails scraping against the tub's porcelain. 

“Want me to take it out?”

{Bring! Bring!}

[Hello?]

{Hi, this is the PG police, that last phrase was definitely an innuendo.}

[Since when is this fanfic PG?]

{Well considering all the sex scenes we cut off...}

“Would you two just shut up!?” Wade shouted. He didn't mean to shout. But maybe he did because he felt like he couldn't keep the words in any longer, he didn't know. Holding tears in is one thing, holding in more words than you can handle is another. Sometimes they just fall out. 

Wade thought about the conversation he had with Tony in the bathrooms. 

He shook his head, he didn't want to think about that. 

“Everything okay in there?” Peter was sweet when the asked that, but god Wade hated him for it. 'Everything okay in there' was suppose to a question you ask while knocking on the bathroom door when someone has been in there for an incredibly long time taking a massive shit. But now, in this sense, Wade's thoughts were the shit. He's been stuck in there too long. His head, a shit storm. 

Wade cleared his throat and forced a laugh, “Yeah, just thinking.” As he spoke, he leaned over the tub at got the shampoo. Even though Peter had full use of his arms, there was a silent consensus that Wade would be the one to bathe him. Peter didn't have to say that every part of him was sore and it hurt to move. Wade just knew. He could tell. So he was going to bathe Peter and, in all honesty, Wade was surprise that he wasn't getting turned on by it. But there was something in the room, something between them that told him this wasn't the time. He had no fantasies to dream about, he had no stiff stick in his pants. All he had was Peter. And Peter was depending on him.

Wade gently lathered Peter's hair, sweet scented suds forming in the palm of his hands as he spread it through the tangled locks. Nobody talked, though there was plenty to say. Wade could swear Peter went to another place, that his body was here but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes were closed and Wade couldn't stop staring at Peter's long, lush lashes. Like perfect dark brown wings on a bird. They were the kind of lashes that snowflakes, no matter how heavy they fell, would always land perfectly on them. And the freckle near Peter's left eye, right before his temple, that was Wade's favourite place to kiss. But he wasn't sure if he was allowed to anymore. He wasn't sure where their relationship stood. So, instead, he took the shower head and gingerly rinsed Peter's hair, running his fingers through it over and over again. 

“Hmm.” Peter hummed softly, never opening his eyes, “Your hands are like magic.” 

That made Wade laugh. 

Peter opened one eye then closed it again, “What? No dirty joke?” 

He laughed again. It felt weird, because he didn't feel like laughing. And he wasn't laughing on the inside. And yet, Peter still drew chuckles from his lips. Wade ran his fingers through his hair again although the suds were gone. 

This time, Peter opened both his eyes, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

{Because we love you!}

[*Intense making out scene.*]

It didn't take a genius to know Wade's thought boxes were mocking him, but they were partially right. And Wade felt the words press against his lips, almost leaving them. But he didn't say them. Instead, he said, “Because you're a beautiful boy.” 

It was Peter's turn to chuckle, “You sound like Steve.” 

Wade moved onto conditioner and Peter didn't go back inside his mind. This time, he talked through the whole thing. 

“When I was a kid, Steve use to comb his fingers through my hair whenever I got upset.” Peter continued, staring blankly at the white tiled bathroom wall, “Then he'd whisper 'you're a beautiful boy Peter Parker.' And I use to argue with him, I didn't think boys could be beautiful.” He paused to let out a sad chuckle, “I swear, Steve looked like he wanted to hit me. He would never, of course, but I could tell he hated when I said that. Then he'd kiss my forehead and tuck me in and turn off my light twice. It always had to be done twice. Once to scare away the monsters, a second time so I could sleep. It's weird now that I hear it out loud.”

“You seem really close with your parents.”

“Yeah, they're great.”

Wade thought about the Tony bathroom conversation again. 

He moved onto something else.

“It's not weird, you know.” He combed through Peter's tangles, but his attention was fully on Peter's words, “It's cute.” 

“Cute?”

“Yeah.” 

“You think everything I do is cute.” 

“Not everything.” Those were words Wade wished he could take back. 

“Name one thing.”

“I don't wanna.”

“Humour me.” 

Wade sighed and rinsed the comb in the soapy bath water, “The way you always run into danger instead of away from it. When you get yourself hurt. That's not cute.” Oh god. Why couldn't he just shut up? For once in his life he just wanted to stop talking

“Hey, I did this for you.” 

That did it. That shut him up. 

They way Peter laughed when he said it. Wade couldn't tell if it was a laugh of humour or regret. And the way Peter's lips curled, Wade couldn't tell if it was a smirk or a scowl. And how Peter said it. God the way he said it had Wade in pieces. _He did it for him._ He said for him. Not because of him, but for him. As if he did it on purpose. Wade never thought about it that way. That Peter suffered through that for him instead of because of him. It was a nice thought but he quickly shook it away. 

Peter closed his eyes after that and the silence returned. 

Wade grabbed one of the three loofahs, he could easily tell which one was whose. At first glance, one may think that the Captain America themed loofah belonged to the Captain himself. But after giving it a second thought, who would most likely wash their nude body with Captain America? 

{Oh! Oh! Pick me!}

[Yes! You in the back?]

{Tony! It's definitely Tony.}

Yeah, it was Tony. Wade knew it because then he spotted the pink frilly one and remembered the inside joke this family had with Steve and pink things. So, by default, the red one had to be Peter's. 

[Red? Really? Like, oh I don't know, Spiderman???]

{It's his favourite colour.}

Wade picked the mandarin and tiaré flower scented Dove® body wash. Now he knew why Peter always smelt like oranges. 

{Um, excuse me? Mandarin and oranges are two very different things. #respect the fruit.}

[How would you know?]

{I'm a vegan.}

[Oh so many memes, so little time.]

Wade tried to shake his thoughts from his head. Sometimes being mentally unstable really had its downfalls. 

He pressed the loofah to Peter's back but immediately retreated when Peter flinched.

“Sorry!” Wade couldn't be apologetic enough. 

Peter laughed. There was a lot of laughing going on, but it didn't feel real. His laugh was nervous, “No, no it's okay. It was just cold, surprised me a little. I'm good now.” 

“Oh.” Wade didn't know if what Peter said calmed his nerves or just spiked them. He pressed the loofah to his back again and was relieved when he didn't flinch. Wade watched the soap start to foam and turn into suds that dripped down with the water. Peter was thinner than he remembered. Not that they've been separated for long, but Wade guessed this was what 15 days on hospital food did to you. Peter was hunched forward a bit, but even while leaning the slightest bit forward, Wade could clearly see his spine. Suds fell into each little crevice and Wade hated the way the soap seemed to highlight the bruises instead of covering them. 

Wade couldn't stop staring. His mind felt distracted but he knew he was completely enveloped in the moment. He resisted the urge to scrub Peter too hard, thinking that he could wash away the bruises. If Wade could have one wish, he'd wish to wash away all of Peter's hurt. External, internal, it didn't matter. He just wanted to wash it all away. Wade moved to Peter's lower back and he arched it, head titled back and mouth parted slightly, eyes closed. Wade wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him and say he was sorry then kiss him again. 

Shit. He loved this boy.

He washed Peter's shoulders and arms, never taking his eyes off the seemingly sleeping boy. Wade knew Peter was still awake, but in these moments, he looked so peaceful. As if he was sleeping. There was a large bruise on Peter's left shoulder blade, it was still blue and looked fresh. On his right inner arm, there was a yellow bruise starting to fade. Wade couldn't seem to wash them away and he hated himself for it. He once thought that Peter was too pale, but now he realized Peter's skin wasn't pasty at all. It was angelic. And Wade ruined an angel's skin. 

“Don't cry.” Peter whispered, but sounded firm. 

“What?” Wade hadn't noticed he was crying, he didn't know at what moment he let his walls fall and the tears come. But now that he knew he was crying, he couldn't stop himself. 

“Don't cry.” Peter repeated but the firmness was gone from his tone. He sounded as if he might start crying himself. Peter hated that. He hated crying. He hated when people cried. But Wade couldn't stop. He couldn't hold the tears in, “Please don't cry.” 

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Wade, I don't want you to apologize anymore.” 

Wade fell silent, resting his forehead on the edge of the tub and letting his hands hang in the water. He focused on the stinging in his hands instead of his eyes. Soap hurt his scars. It hurt like a motherfucker. But he was use to it, he didn't care. If it was for Peter, he didn't care. 

“Wade.” Peter whispered his name but to Wade it sounded like a scream. He clenched his fists. Every time he closed his eyes he would see Peter strapped to that damn table, that damn knife in his damn leg, and Wade would be trapped in that damn fucking container like a helpless man. Never being able to do anything as Peter screamed. Wade hated the sound of his screams. 

“Wade.” Now Peter's voice sounded distance, something that he wanted to pull back in, “Wade, please look at me.” Didn't Peter understand? He didn't want to look at him anymore. It brought up too many mix emotions. It hurt to look at him, like, it physically hurt. Like a jab in his chest. The only thing was Wade didn't know if it was a good hurt or a bad one. It was almost like every time he looked at Peter, he craved something. 

“Wade.” Peter called his name for the third time and this time, like many times before, Wade gave in. He couldn't resist anymore, he had to look up. And when he did, Wade was shock to see Peter's face just millimeters away from his own. But he didn't move. He liked being this close to Peter. He wished he could get closer. 

And then he did. 

Or, it was Peter who got closer to him. It was Peter who kissed him. 

There was no doubt Wade was taken aback, he wasn't expecting to be kissed tonight despite desperately wanting to. But as soon as he realized it was Peter's soft lips against his, he didn't hesitate to kiss back. He didn't hesitate to place his wet, soapy hand on the back of Peter's neck. He didn't hesitate to sit up straighter on his knees so he could pull Peter in deeper. He didn't hesitate to press their lips closer and harder together so that the only way they could breath was through each other. And Wade didn't hesitate to get a taste of Peter's mouth in his. Peter seemed so far away. Too far away. Wade wanted to reel him in and tie him to the ground so that he couldn't float away. So he kissed him to keep him grounded. And Wade kissed him and kissed him and kissed him and he didn't know if the steam in the bathroom was coming from the heat of Peter's tub or the heat from their lips against each others'.

Wade thought he was going to die. 

No, he was going to die. He knew it.

Wade was going to die kissing Peter Parker.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered between the kisses, but his mind was so fogged he couldn't tell if he really meant it. Wade barely knew he was speaking, let alone what he was saying. But he whispered it again, “I'm sorry.” 

“I know.” Peter kissed him, “Shut up.” Peter pulled him in closer. But that was the thing, he couldn't get any closer. The edge of the tub was already digging into his stomach and he was leaning as far in as possible. But Peter kept tugging, his hands placed on either side of Wade's face and their lips never more than a second apart. He had to get closer. He propped one knee on the edge of the tub and leaned forward. Peter kept pulling. One minute, Wade was having the kiss of his life. Peter gripping his face so tight and pulling him closer, Wade could have sworn he was going to melt from the heat. But, the next thing that he knew, instead of being gorgeously lip locked with his sweetums, he had one leg in the air and his face plunged in the water. He slipped and landed behind Peter in the tub.

[Okay I know what you're thinking. How big is this fucking tub? Just keep in mind, this is Tony Stark's bathroom. It's bound to be huge.]

{Maybe he's compensating for something.}

Only a few seconds went by before Wade felt himself being pulled up by the hood of his (still, technically it's Steve's. Wade still hasn't change...kinda gross really) grey sweatshirt. He propped himself up on his elbows and wiped his face, flicking the water off his skin. He coughed a few times before wiping his face again then finally sitting properly down in the water, not caring about his clothes.

Wade looked at Peter and Peter stared back at him. It was silent before Peter asked, “Are...Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” Wade passed his tongue over his lips, they still tasted like Peter, “I'm good.” 

The silence came back.

Then they busted out laughing. 

A minute passed. 

Then two.

Then Wade lost count, but he was left clutching his sides. His sweater felt heavy against his skin now that it was wet, but yet Wade laughed. His head throbbed where he had hit it and there was probably gonna be a bruise, but yet Wade laughed. And his lips stung with the words that he knew he should say, with the things he should tell Peter, but yet Wade laughed. Because nothing else mattered. Not the dampness of his shirt, the pain in his head or the words that he didn't want to say. And it felt beautiful. This moment was beautiful. Wade and Peter laughed and laughed and laughed and Wade didn't know if it was water dripping down his cheeks or tears but the one thing he did know was that he didn't want this moment to end. He wanted to take a picture and stare at it forever. He wanted to look at that picture and remember what it felt like to sit in the tub and laugh your ass off. 

“Let's get you out.” Wade said and then he wished he didn't. He wasn't done laughing, he didn't want to be. 

“Yeah,” Peter wiped his eyes, “I think I'm turning into a prune.” 

Wade got out of the water, dripping wet, then picked Peter up. He wrapped his baby boy in the fluffiest towel he could find before making his way to Peter's bedroom with large slushy steps. Wade knew he was leaving a trail of water behind him, he was gonna wipe it up later. Carefully, he set Peter down on his bed and slipped a pair of boxer shorts onto him before having to put the brace back on his leg. Wade tried not to flinch when he heard Peter's nails scrape against his headboard. This was not how he wanted the first time he sat on Peter's bed to go. This was not the situation he wanted in order to hear Peter's nails clutching his headboard. He imagined something very, very different.

{Sex.}

[Yeah, we're talking about sex. Fucking him so hard that he has to hang onto something.]

Unfortunately the fucking would have to wait.

“So uh, I don't think you're gonna be able to wear pants for a while.” Wade pointed out lamely, “I have a bunch of dresses you can borrow though.” It was meant to be a serious offer -and he would love to see Peter in one of his dresses- but when Peter laughed, Wade laughed with him. Both of them clutched their sides, Wade still sore from laughing and Peter sore from, well, Wade guessed it wasn't just from their laughing fit a few minutes ago. 

“We can figure out the pants situation later.” Peter spoke with a smile that melted Wade's heart, “I just wanna lay in bed.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“Wade?”

“Yeah?”

“You're getting my bed wet.”

Instead of making a joke on how he should be making Peter wet, he just got up and apologized. Wade wanted to avoid Peter's gaze, but he was still wearing that damn smile, how could he look away?

“Go take a shower.”

Wade was shocked, “What?”

Peter smiled. Wade wished he would stop doing that, “Go shower. You stink.” He laughed. Wade wished he would stop doing that too. It hurt, sometimes, to hear Peter's laugh or to see his flawless smile. Especially in a state like this. Bed ridden for weeks, brace on his scarred leg, needing to learn how to properly walk again. Hell, Wade served as his human crutch. And yet, Peter still had it in him to smile. Wade didn't know how he did it. 

But he found himself laughing too, “Okay,” he smiled and ghosted his hand over Peter's leg but didn't touch him. He wanted to lean forward and run his has through Peter's wet locks, but he didn't touch him. He wanted to resume that kiss they had in the bathroom, or hell, even the one they had in the hospital room, but he didn't touch him, “Will you be okay?” 

Peter's expression dropped, “I'm not a child, I'll be fine.”

“Okay.” Wade said then left. As he opened Peter's door, he was surprised to see Steve and Tony mid-knock on the other side, “Oh, sorry.” Wade slipped passed them with ease, not bothering to stick around to see what they had to say. Normally, he would have eased dropped the fuck out of their conversation they would be having with Peter. But he had more important things to do. He had to shower. Peter told him to do so.

{So what? We do whatever the little fucker wants us to now?}

“Yes.” He didn't try to not talk to himself. It's been a while since they had a good conversation.

[It's the least we can do.]

“See, white box gets it.” Wade walked in the bathroom and closed the door.

{Why?}

[Because it's all our fault.]

Wade didn't have anything to say to that. He locked the door, then unlocked it, then locked again just to be sure.

[So the least we can do is do everything Peter needs us to.]

{So we're his slave?}

“Yeah.” He pulled off his shirt and threw it on the floor with a soggy flop, “You can think of it like that.”

{Kinky.}

[Not that kind of slave.]

“I mean, if Peter wants us to be a sex slave.” Wade couldn't tell if he was joking. He pulled off his pants then stepped in the shower. The tub was still warm from Peter's bath water having been in here, but things were about to get a lot hotter. And no, not in the sex kind of way, but as in temperature. Wade turned the heat up all the way. See, the truth was, showering hurt. The water pressure against his skin, it wasn't fun. So the heat helped. Scorching water kind of numbed the pain, or made it so much worse that it didn't hurt anymore. Ever get that? Something hurt so bad that, well, it just didn't? So that's what Wade did. He took the tap and turned it all the way up and let the water burn him. His skin seemed extra irritated, so he just stood there. 

“Ow.” He muttered and held his elbows, keeping his head low. 

[{FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuck}]

That's all his thought boxes ever said when he was in the shower. Just one word continuously, over and over again. Wade got use to it and, frankly, was able to block it out so that it was just a buzz in his mind. He closed his eyes. He immediately regretted it. A picture of Peter strapped to that god damn table flashed across his vision. Wade opened his eyes again, gulping down a breath.

Shit. 

A few minutes passed and Wade let the heat of the water take him away. He held his arms close to his chest and tried not to focus on the sting of his scars. His heart felt like it might implode. Or that it might come right out of his chest. So Wade pressed himself tightly together, holding himself closer so that he could keep everything contained. 

He closed his eyes again. 

 

_'Wade! Wade help me!'_

_Peter was screaming and struggling against the restraints of his trap._

_Fuck._

_Wade wanted to shout back at Peter, to tell him to stop. Stop fighting and just to hold on, he'll get them out of this mess soon. But he knew he couldn't say that. He wouldn't. If he said the wrong thing at the wrong time, it meant bad things for Peter._

_'Wade!'_

_Wade flinched, unknowing if he could keep holding himself back. He was trying to concentrate on what Ian was saying, trying to answer his questions. But he couldn't. He could only focus on Peter. Peter and his screams. Peter and his pain. Peter and his- his-_

_'Peter!' the word slipped out of Wade's mouth before he could stop himself. And once he started, it was like an explosion, there was no stopping it. He pounded against the glass of his trap, hoping to break it. He hit it and punched it and slammed his fists against it. But the only thing that was cracking was his knuckles, and his spirit._

_'Peter I'm coming! Hang on!'_

_Wade yelled but his words were drowned out by his own actions. He couldn't hear anything over the pounding of his fist against the glass. He could see Peter and what they were doing to him, he could see his back arch in pain and his mouth part in a scream, but Wade couldn't do anything. He was helpless. He was useless. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks._

_Peter! Peter Please! I'm sorry!_

_Wade felt himself start to slip. He slammed his fist harder against the glass. He was failing. He was failing his baby boy, his sweetums, his Peter. He was failing Peter. Again. Something he never wanted to do in the first place, he was doing it all over again. The killings, the fight, and now this._

_'I'm sorry Peter!' He sobbed, and he fell. Just as Peter screamed. Wade fell._

Wade eyes snapped open. 

He was panting and crying and he couldn't breath. He was on the tub's floor now instead of standing for the shower, the water still running but his body was tangled in the curtains that he took down with him. Someone else was in the room. Wade could make out their silhouette standing before him. 

“Wade?” Their voice was soft and kind. Like sipping hot chocolate during a winter storm. But he knew it wasn't Peter's voice. It wasn't Peter in the room with him.

“Who...” Wade's voice was hazed and vision blurred. He didn't get to finish him sentence.

“Wade, it's Steve. Are you okay?” Steve was bent forward, hands placed on his knees like he was talking to a small child.

“What?” Wade was breathless. He wasn't asking as if he didn't understand what Steve just said. He was more in disbelief that this was actually happening. He was in the bathtub with only a shower curtain covering his body and his mask wasn't in sight.

Shit. His mask. Peter still had it. 

“Sh-Shit!” Wade started to scramble, trying to get to his feet but kept falling over in the process. 

“Wade- stop, you're gonna- Wade!” It was only when Steve raised his voice did Wade fall still. He was sitting upright in the tub, covering as much of himself as possible with the curtain. Once he was still, Steve's voice when back to soft, “Are you okay?” 

“N-No, my mask I- fuck, just- don't look at me- please don't- just- shit-”

“Wade, I don't care about your mask.” Steve crouched down and he smiled. Nobody has ever smiled the first time they saw his face, “I meant are _you_ okay? We heard you screaming. Peter was worried, we all were.”

[Fuck.]

{Fuck}

“Fuck.” Wade whispered, if he spoke any higher he could swear his head would explode, “I-I'm-”

{Not okay?}

[Wet?]

{Sore?}

[These are getting kinda sexual.]

“Sorry.” Wade finished without the help of his thought boxes, “I'm sorry.” 

He didn't know the expression on Steve's face as he apologized, and he didn't dare look up. He could feel Steve staring though, his skin burned under the gaze of the Captain. It hurt. Like a motherfucker it hurt. And Wade wished he would leave. But he didn't. He stayed. And he dreadfully kept talking. 

“You feel guilty, don't you?” 

This time Wade had to look up, just for a few seconds he shifted his gaze and caught the blue one of Steve's. His eyes wasn't like anything Wade has seen before. They weren't a sharp blue, they were a warm blue. Like you could wrap yourself in them and feel as cozy as you would snuggled in your favourite sweater. How odd. 

Wade quickly looked away once he felt his skin flare up. Steve's eyes weren't a warm blue anymore, they were a hot one. Too hot. Wade felt as if he was being burnt to a crisp beneath Steve's eyes. But they were kind. And Wade, well, he was confused.

{Too many colour metaphors.}

[Why do deep meaningful conversations with Peter's parents always happen in the bathroom?]

“Yeah.” Was Wade agreeing with his thought boxes or with Steve? Maybe both.

“I know you love him.” At Steve's words, Wade shrank. 

[This is a major deja vu, I swear we already had this conversation with Tony.]

“Yeah.” Wade's voice was meek, he couldn't even muster up enough confidence to talk, “I do.”

“And Peter loves you too, even if he hasn't said it yet. He does.” 

Wade flinched. 

_Lies._

That was his first thought. He was lying. Steve was lying to him. 

Wade hated himself for thinking that. 

“It's just...” Steve chewed on his bottom lip. Now Wade knew where Peter picked up that habit, “Peter, he- he doesn't like secrets. So, if you really care about my son, don't hide anything from him. Okay?” He didn't know how Steve managed to sound kind as he said that, but his words were serene. 

Wade thought about the conversation he had with Tony. 

Peter doesn't need to find out. That's what Tony said to him. Now Steve was in here telling him not to keep any secrets. Wade was confused. He was very, very confused. But he nodded his head along to what Steve was saying anyway. 

“Oh, Peter said for me to give you these.” Steve went out of his crouch and pulled out some folded clothing. From what Wade could tell, the pants were red plaid pajama bottoms, but the shirt looked awfully familiar. It took him a moment to realize that the reason why it looked familiar was because it was his shirt. The night him and Peter went for hot chocolate, he had lent Peter his baggiest sweater. Peter looked adorable in it. And, apparently, he had kept it. Steve placed the clothes next to Wade's towels.  
“Thanks.” Wade was thanking him for more than just the clothes. 

Steve smiled, it was warm, like the rest of him, “Anytime. And Wade? If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm all ears. Okay?” 

Steve left without giving Wade time to respond. The bathroom door clicked shut. 

[What. The. Fuck.]

{What just happened?}

Wade sighed, shaking his head, “I don't even know.” First he got flowers today and now this. Someone to talk to. Someone who will listen and give advice and shit it was weird. 

[Let's just get dressed.]

{Yeah, good idea.}

Wade nodded absentmindedly and lifted himself out of the tub, turning off the tap and untangling himself from the mess of wet curtains. With a giant, fluffy towel, he dried himself off. His mind a buzz and dull. Wade was full of emptiness. That feeling you get after you shower, knowing it's a whole other world beyond the bathroom door, but so long as you're inside, nothing matters. He slipped on the flannel pants and his hoodie. It no longer smelt like himself, it smelt like Peter. Wade took a deep breath in and let it out with a shutter. 

{Creepy.}

Shut up. 

Since he didn't have his mask, he kept a hair towel over his head as he snuck out of the bathroom. Wade heard voices coming from down the hall, so he knew Steve and Tony were out of Peter's room. It was only about thirty steps to his room. Wade stood in the doorway. Peter's room, it was dark, the lights already turned off and Peter tucked in. Except for one light that was illuminating his face that was placed on his bedside table. Peter was reading. 

Wade's heart melted at the sight. 

Peter loved to read, Wade had found that over the past couple of days. He was an everything reader. Fiction, Non-Fiction, it didn't matter. Peter always had the same expression as he read. An expression that told Wade nothing else mattered around him other than the novel in his hands. Peter was in love with the words on the page. So when he put the novel down, just to look up and smile at Wade, Wade's chest tightened and burned. Any words he wanted to say were now ashes in his throat, drifting away the more he looked at Peter. And the longer he looked at Peter, the quicker his heart started to beat and the tighter his chest wrapped around it until Wade could swear it was about to beat right out of him. He could hear it pound in his ears like a drum. His stomach felt sick, but like a good sick, as if he just been to a rock concert and the aftermath of the drums still played within him. Wade felt all of this, just by looking at Peter. He couldn't start to imagine what he'd feel if he gave into his urges and touched Peter too. But he couldn't. He wouldn't. But shit. He loved this boy. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” The cheerfulness in Peter's voice was so full that it almost sounded fake. Wade didn't understand how someone could even begin to fake happiness. That was one thing he could never do. Maybe because he's forgotten how to. But Peter? He was a pro. Wade couldn’t tell if Peter was actually happy or dying on the inside. Especially after what happened, after his nightmares and his injuries. How the hell could Peter be happy?

“Like you said, I like staring at books.” Wade joked, but any humour he once had was now gone. He never was staring the books, but he might as well make a joke out of it. 

“Well,” Peter bit his bottom lip and looked back down at his book. But he wasn't reading it, just staring blankly at the pages, “I'm sure you'd get a better angle up closer.” 

Wade smiled.

{Fuck, that was adorable.}

[He's still our awkward lil' Pete.]

He got closer to Peter's bed and climbed in on the right side. He didn't get under the covers, but Wade tried to pull his sexiest pose. Hand holding his head, propped up by his elbow. His other arm cascaded along his luscious curves.

{Gag}

[Luscious curves? Since when are we Barb?]

{From Stranger Things?}

[She's got great birthing hips. Hot af]

“Better Pete?”

Peter glanced at Wade from the corner of his eye and tried to stifle his giggle. When he couldn't do it anymore, he buried his face in his book and started laugh. Wade couldn't hide his grin. 

{Touch him.}

[Just a little, get closer.]

Wade couldn't resist. He felt the need to get closer to Peter, and if it wasn't for his injuries, Wade would have already started spooning the motherfucker. But the longer he stared at Peter, the stronger the urge became. He placed a hand on Peter's arm then lightly ran his fingers over it. He felt Peter's skin prickle with goosebumps, shivering beneath his touch. Peter look over at Wade, setting his book down in his lap as they locked eyes. 

In blue eyes you drown. 

In brown eyes you suffocate. Wade was suffocating. 

“You know, sitting here and talking is not what I pictured doing the first time I'm in your bed.”

{Haha oohh, cracking a joke instead of facing our feelings.}

[Classic.]

Peter gave him a funny look, “You've been in my bed before.”

{What?}

[Did we get amnesia?]

“I have?” Wade tilted his head, “When?”

“You were sitting on my bed polishing your swords or something. The night of-” Peter paused and Wade wished that he wouldn't finish his sentence, “...of Nick Norton.” Peter broke the eye contact and quickly switched his attention to his book but he didn't pick it up. The book remained in his lap and Wade couldn't tell if he was reading or not. 

Shit. Why did Peter have to bring up Nick?

[Because you prompted him dumbass.]

{We need to steer this conversation away from Nick, fast.}

Wade tried to think of something else to say. Nobody has brought up anything about Nick Norton, or their fight, or even what happened at Weapon-X. And Wade really didn't feel like talking about it now. He thought of the conversation he had with Tony in the bathroom.

 _He doesn't need to know_

Then he thought of the one he had with Steve.

_Peter doesn't like secrets._

Wade didn't know what to do. It would be too easy to tell Peter right now about all the things he did. About the people he killed at Weapon-X. About the hostages, about the people they were trying to save, and how they're all dead now because of him. Because of Deadpool. 

But the words Wade needed to say, they didn't come. They couldn't get past the brick of fear that was lodge in his throat. Knowing that as soon as the words left his mouth, Peter would also leave. He wouldn't want anything to do with Wade. It doesn't matter if he promised to be good or not. If only Peter knew. And that terrified Wade more than anything. 

“Wade I-” Peter started, but hesitated. And that left Wade waiting in anticipation. What the hell was Peter going to say?

{Wade, I want you out of my bed.}

[Out of my room.]

{Out of my house.}

[Out of my life.]

{Wade, I hate you.}

“Wade, I-” Peter tried again and glanced at Wade's hand on his arm, fingers frozen mid stroke but he couldn't seem to take them off of Peter's arm. And when he spoke, Peter's voice dropped dramatically in volume, “Wade, I'm kinda cold.” 

{Junjou Romantica reference say what?}

[Haha we watch Yaoi!]

Wade knew what this meant. Peter didn't want more blankets and he didn't want the heat turned up. Wade got under the covers and layed as close to Peter as he could. Their heads right next to each other and their legs brushing up against one other. And Wade thanked god that Peter's braced leg was on his other side, permitting him better snuggle room. 

The hairs and Peter's neck stood up every time Wade breathed out. And every time he breathed in, Wade could smell nothing but newspapers and oranges. All he could smell was Peter.

A million words danced at the edge of his lips, but all he could say was, “Better?” 

Peter nodded and turned his head to the side, locking eyes again. 

Wade's breath was taken. 

“Yeah.” Peter whispered and Wade's eyes kept switching from Peter's brown ones to his pink lips. God he could never get enough of his kisses. 

Steve's words popped into his head.

_Peter loves you too, even if he hasn't said it._

Wade's chest flared with the thought. He had to get it out of his head. 

Lies lies lies lies lies lies lies. It was a lie. It had to be. But the more he thought about it, the less it seemed so. He wanted to hear Peter say it. He wanted to watch his perfect lips form into each perfect word. He wanted to know how Peter would touch him when he said it. He wanted to feel Peter's ice cold finger tips against his burning chest, holding his heart in place as he said it. Wade wanted to see the sincerity in Peter's eyes as he meant every word. But that was the thing. Peter wouldn't mean it.

He'd be lying. 

He'd have to be.

Wade nuzzled his face deeper into Peter's neck, breathing in until he could only see, smell, and feel nothing but Peter and the heat of his skin. 

Shit. He loved his boy.

Wade couldn't take it anymore.

“Lie to me.” He whispered so softly he wasn't sure Peter heard him in the first place. 

“What?” Peter's honey voice coated Wade's ears as he closed his eyes. He thought he could look, but he couldn't. He was a coward. 

“Lie to me.” Wade repeated, his voice shaking. He wanted to cry, “Lie to me and say you love me.”

There was silence, and Wade felt cold. Like he might freeze. He couldn't tell what Peter was thinking, he couldn't even hear him breathing. And he absolutely could not look at him. Not when he was this desperate. Wade couldn't let Peter see him this desperate. 

“Wade, I don't-”

“Please.” Wade interrupted, his voice hush. His mouth was right below Peter's ear, his lips just barely brushing his skin, “Just say it.” 

“I-” Peter hesitated and Wade almost missed the sigh he released, “I love you.” 

Wade almost started to cry.

[He's lying.]

{He's lying.}

[He's lying.]

Wade didn't care. But he didn't get his fill. He sat up a bit, just enough so that he could see Peter's face. It felt was if they were in a whole other world. As if reality was bent in Peter's bed. 

“Again.” Wade whispered, this time looking right at Peter's face. His eyes were half closed, mouth parted and he was leaning up, arms on either side of Wade's neck, clinging to him as if he was his life line.

“I love you.” Peter said it without hesitation this time, eyes scanning Wade's face, gaze falling on his chapped lips. 

Wade let a small smile part his lips, unable to hold himself back. He leaned in closer to Peter, kissing him softly before pressing their foreheads together, “Say it again.” 

“I love you.” Then Peter kissed Wade. And Wade's chest swelled. 

Shit. He loved this boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to write


	34. Chapter 33

The next month was bliss, or at least, that's what it felt like to Peter. It was like nothing ever happened between him and Wade. No fight, no deaths, nothing. Hell, they didn't even talk about what happened at Weapon-X. And sure, it bothered him a little bit that Wade never brought it up, that he never told him how he escape or anything like that. But Peter had to question himself, did he really want to know? Or was it better this way? Pretending that nothing happened? And yeah sure, everyone knew of the incident, they didn't just ignore his injuries, but despite just asking him how his leg was doing, nobody really talked about it. The closest time Peter and Wade came about the topic was that time in his bed when he accidentally brought up Nick Norton. But after that time, he and Wade just went back to acting like before their fight. And Peter was happy like this. He didn't mention what happened, and neither did Wade. It worked. It was almost like normal. 

Almost.

There were a few things Peter noticed that were different. For instance, Wade stopped kissing him. They haven't kissed since that time in his bedroom. And hell, even after a month Peter could swear he still felt the sting of Wade's lips against his. But that sensation was never renewed. To be fair, he never tried to kiss Wade, but that was different. He was never one to start these kind of things, it was always Wade. But now that Wade wasn't doing it, it never happened. 

So maybe things weren't so normal. 

Wade was also acting different. He's been so defensive lately, as if he needs to justify his every action. And Peter knew Wade was clingy before, but now he was 'over the top protective never leaving his side' kind of clingy. Like seriously, Peter could barely use the bathroom without Wade waiting by his door or shadowing his every step. Peter appreciated it at first, hell, he physically needed Wade to walk. But during the last week of the month, after his brace came off and he was able to wear pants again, he was near fine to walk on his own. It took practice, but he didn't need Wade as much anymore, he could move around by himself. Though for some reason Wade was too blind to see that. Honestly, Peter was a little fed up. 

There was one more thing Wade did. 

'Lie to me.' That was slowly becoming their 'thing.' And it was another thing that nobody talked about. Ever so often, Wade would whisper in Peter's ear 'lie to me,' to which Peter would respond 'I love you.' It was a little weird at first, and Peter didn't quite understand why he ever went along with it in the first place. But now he was starting to get an idea. It was easier than confessing. It was easier than telling Wade that he wasn't lying every time he said that he loved him. 

But Wade never said it back. 

It didn't bother Peter. Okay maybe it did. It does. It bothers him a lot. But like everything else, he didn't mention it. Sometimes ignoring your problems is a lot easier than facing them. He knew there was something Wade wasn't telling him, he knew there was a lot of words left unsaid between the two of them, but he couldn't bring himself to break what they had. Not again. 

Wade was in the washroom and Peter, for the first time in what seemed like forever, was dressing himself. And hell, it was hot outside so for the first time since the incident Peter was going to wear shorts. He limped over to his closet. Occasionally his leg would still bothered him. It still hurt to walk and sometimes his leg would just give out, but Wade was always there to catch him. There was one time during the second week since he was home, Peter had a break down. He was stubborn, anyone could tell you that. So he was trying to walk by himself, even with his brace on. He just wanted a snack, some fucking jolly ranchers or something. Anything. And he got tired of everyone babying him. And sure, 1 in the morning wasn't an appropriate time for candy. And granted, Wade tried to stop him. But Peter got up anyway and did his best to drag his ass to the kitchen. He almost made it. Then fell. And Wade caught him. Then Peter cried. Right there in Wade's arms, in the middle of the night, at the edge of the hallway Peter cried. That was the only time he allowed himself to break. Then he swore he'd be a grown up about this whole situation, he'd be a big boy.

Peter slipped on a pair of shorts. It was the first time since his brace was taken off that he got to wear real shorts. He spent three weeks in practically his boxers, then once his brace came off he went back to wearing pants. But the late morning sun that filtered through his bedroom window told Peter that it was a shorts and tank top day, so that's exactly what he wore. Peter would have danced around if it wasn't for his leg, he felt that free. 

“Hey Petey-Pie?” He heard Wade's voice in the hall, he started talking before he even entered the room, “I've been thinking, and you know I do my best thinking while shitting so this is gonna be good. But I thought what if-” Wade paused, freezing in the doorway. Peter's grin fell once he saw Wade's face. He knew exactly what Wade was staring at, his gaze went straight to his leg. Wade hated the sight of it, even though Peter's scar wasn't that bad now. Barely a white line against his skin, it just seemed bright because of his pale complexion. Hell, he didn't mind it. So he had a scar, it was bound to happen some time. But Wade? God, Peter never saw so much hatred in his eyes. He knew it wasn't directed at him, he knew that Wade didn't hate him. Every time Wade laid eyes on his leg, the hatred in his eyes were steered towards himself. Wade hated himself. Peter's scar acted as a memory. And sometimes, Peter himself felt like a memory. 

“Wade?” Peter prompted him to keep talking, but he knew that whatever Wade was going to say was long gone. 

“Huh?” Wade shook his head, snapping out of his trance, “Oh sorry Peter. I was just, uh,” He sighed and attempted a smile, “Your ass looks great in those shorts.”

That made hum laugh, and then he saw Wade melt. 

Yup. Wade was definitely acting different. There could be a million reasons why, but Peter couldn't name one.

“You hungry?” Peter asked, pushing any worry he had to the back of his mind. It was better not to ask. Better not to bring anything up. 

“Always.” A cheeky grin spread across Wade's face, “Race ya to the kitchen.” It was a joke. Of course it was. But Peter tried anyway. Of course he did. He was going to try and race past Wade, he felt as if he could do it. Maybe it was the shorts. But Peter only got in about two long quick strides before his leg did what it always does. Spasmed then gave out. He would have face planted into the floor if Wade hadn't been right there to catch him. Peter looked up at him as Wade steadied him, arms wrapped tightly around his body.

Peter flashed a guilty grin, “Do I win?”

Wade wasn't amused, not a flicker of a smile was on his lips and a dark shadow was cast over his eyes, making them unreadable, “What the hell was that?” Wade stayed annoyingly calm. That was another thing. Peter was stupid, like, ridiculously stupid when it came to his own health. He never sat still and pretty much thought he was invincible, even while bed ridden. Everyone blames Tony for this trait. Anyway, Peter was perfectly aware of how stubborn he's been this month. He was almost doing it purposefully, just to make Wade angry. Yeah, huge asshole move. But he wanted Wade to yell at him. He wanted him to take out all his anger until his voice was sore and he couldn't talk anymore. He knew Wade was holding back, he saw it every time Wade wanted to say something, but didn't. Peter knew when Wade wanted to yell and curse either at him, himself, or just the world. But he never did. He always stayed calm. That wasn't like Wade, and Peter didn't like it. Wade never yelled at him, even if he was being stupid, like now. And it was fucking annoying. 

“Well, you did tell me to race.” He was purposely placing the blame on Wade, not to be a little shit, but if you read the last paragraph you would understand why. 

Wade hung his head, and just like always, he took the blame, “Yeah, I did. Sorry.” 

Peter narrowed his eyes. He hated when Wade apologized to him, it wasn't right unless he was in the wrong. Which he wasn't. So Peter couldn't understand why Wade kept doing it. 

“C'mon,” Wade muttered and Peter could tell he was transcending into one of his 'moods', “Let's get you to the kitchen.” He slung Peter's arm around his shoulder, but Peter took it right back off.

“I can walk myself.” It wasn't a complete lie, he could walk on his own. But would he be able to do it right now? Probably not considering how his leg just acted up, but he would never tell Wade that. 

“Don't be a shit, Peter.” Wade didn't have the energy to argue and Peter wasn't sure he had it either. Maybe that was why he let Wade put his arm around his shoulder again, “Now hop.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter didn't try to hide his grumble as he limped down the hall, putting most of his weight on Wade. Okay, so maybe he did need him to walk for just this once, but the throbbing in his leg will pass in a few minutes. Then he could prove that he didn't need Wade to walk. 

They got to the main living area, Peter's dads were already standing there near the couch, they looked as if in a very deep conversation. But when him and Wade entered, the talking stopped and both their eyes turned to them. Normally Steve and Tony didn't stare for long, but this time they weren't staring at Wade. Peter noticed they were staring at him. Maybe it was the shorts. 

Oh right, there was one more thing Wade did that wasn't like him at all.

Wade never wore his mask anymore. 

Peter didn't understand why and he felt he wouldn't get a straight answer if he asked. But Wade was often maskless if it was just him, Peter, Steve and Tony in the house. If anyone else came over, then the mask went back on, but when it was just the four of them, it was nowhere in sight. He knew Wade wasn't comfortable. Hell, it took months before he even showed Peter his face. So that couldn't be it. Peter liked the thought of it though, that Wade was comfortable enough around his family that he didn't feel the need to hide anymore. Wade wasn't hiding, yet Peter never felt a greater distance between them. They kept limping towards the kitchen. 

Tony whispered something that Peter didn't hear, but apparently, Wade did. They paused near the bar as Wade's head snapped in his parents' direction. 

Wade's voice was like venom, quick, slick, and full of rage, “If you have something to say about Peter, have the balls to say it to his face.” 

Peter knew this would happen eventually. Not this specific conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. Over the pass few weeks, Tony and Wade have been too nice to each other. It was as if they were betting money on who could stand it the longest. It was almost peaceful.

Until now. 

“What I said doesn't involve you or my son. That's why I whispered it to my _husband._ ” Tony crossed his arms.

Wade's ocean blue eyes narrowed into storms, “Then what the hell were you staring at?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the giant ass scar on Peter's leg.” 

Wade made Peter sit down on a bar stool before marching right up to Tony. He peered down at the smaller man, his scowl deepening when Tony flinched being so close to his face. 

“You gotta problem with scars?” The pain in Wade's voice wasn't masked by his anger, but rather added to it. Peter thought about hopping over and getting between the two, but instead he just exchanged a glance with his Pops. Their gazes weren't nearly as sharp as Wade's and Tony's, their glares could almost cut the tension between them. 

“When the scars are on my son, yeah I do!” Tony wasn't scared to seize up to Wade, even though his head just barely reached his shoulders. 

Wade grabbed Tony by the collar of his shirt before shoving him towards Peter, “Then tell him to his face! Tell your son how you think his leg is fucking ugly now!”

Tony spun back around to face Wade again, both men red in the face from anger, “I never said that!”

“Might as well be honest, doesn't Peter deserve the truth!?”

“Oh you do not get to lecture me about being honest!” Tony started taking steps towards Wade and, to Peter's surprise, Wade started taking steps back, “If you're so set on honesty why don't you tell Peter your dirty little secret!? Tell him about the lives you took!”

Wade's eyes widened. Peter wanted this to stop. He wanted it to all stop right now. But he was glued to the bar stool and his mouth sewn shut. 

“I think we all just need to take a breather.” Steve tried to cut in, but his comment went unheard as Wade talked over him. Even from here, Peter could see something snap in him.

“Shut up.” His hands bawled into fist, his chest heaving with every breath. But Tony didn't stop, Peter wasn't sure if his dad knew how.

“No, no, if you wanna be honest here, let's tell the truth! How 'bout you start by telling Peter what happened at the Weapon-X facility!? Or how about the fact that you obliterated everyone in the fucking room before escaping!? Or at the very least you can admit to him that you're just fucking using him!”

“Shut up!”

“Go ahead Wade, admit how you feel so bad for all the shit that happened, that the guilt is killing you! That's the only reason why you stay with Peter! You're just using him to feel better about yourself! I wouldn't be surprised if you secretly hated him!”

“Shut up!” Wade shouted and Peter thought that he might kill his dad. Neither him or Steve could do anything now, “You don't know a god damn thing about what I feel! I fucking love your son!” He pointed violently to Peter and Peter could swear that he could see tears rolling down Wade's cheeks, “I fucking love that kid! Okay!? I'm in love with him! You got a problem with that!?”

“Maybe I do!”

“Well tough shit! Maybe you're the one with the secret hatred!”

“You know what? You're right Wade! I do hate something about my son! I hate that fucking scar on his leg because it brings him one step closer to being like you!” 

Silence fell over the room and all Peter could do was watch as Wade's fist collided with his dad's jaw. Tony fell to the ground on impact and Steve immediately knelt by his side. Wade was left hunch shouldered and panting, shaking his hand that punched Tony. His knuckles bruising. 

“Wade...” Peter was surprised by his own voice. He was expecting to be angry, to be yelling or something. But he didn't feel angry at all. He was confused and honestly a little scared. But not mad. He got up and did his best to walk over to them, but Wade stopped him about half way. Wade didn't look up at him. He wouldn't.

“You shouldn't be walking.” 

Peter had to refrain himself from rolling his eyes. Not this again.

“Wade, I'm fine to walk on my on.” Peter tried to be stern, hoping to keep the confusion he felt out of his voice. All he wanted to know was what the fuck just happened. Things were said that Peter didn't want to hear, and things that he did. 

Wade said that he loved him. 

Peter wanted to get to the bottom of that. 

Wade completely ignored him as he took his arm to sling around his shoulder, “Let's go to the kitchen.”

What? How could he leave the scene after Tony just got punched and was spitting out blood from his mouth. How could he even think about food after what just happened? 

“No, Wade-” He wasn't listening, practically dragging Peter to the kitchen, “Wade, stop! I can walk- I don't- Wade! I don't need you!” Peter shouted and pushed Wade away, sending him stumbling backwards. Both of them were shocked when they realized Peter used some of his spider strength. From behind, Tony was on his feet again with Steve helping to hold him up. He swiped blood away from his chin. 

“You heard him, Wilson.” Whatever truce that Tony and Wade once had was now gone, “He said it. Now get out.” 

Peter quickly looked from his dad to Wade. He said what now?

“What's going...” Peter's voice faded out when he caught Wade's eye. He was staring at Peter and Peter couldn't decide if it was disbelief or fear, but the one thing he knew was that Wade was hurt. Peter wanted to apologize, but his mouth just hung uselessly open as he couldn't tear his gaze away from Wade's eyes. God, they were so full. He was drowning in them. 

And just like that, Wade was gone. He turned around and dashed down the hall, taking the back staircase. He didn't say a word and Peter had to rub his eyes to make sure he was really gone. He looked at his parents in disbelief, trying to confirm what really just happened.

Then he snapped out of it. 

“W-Wade! Wait!” He tried to run after him, but his leg gave out. It was like in movies where someone's running after their loved ones in the rain but trips and falls, but they just get up more determined. Well, that's not what really goes down. As Peter fell, it felt as if the weight of his world came crashing down on his shoulders with him. If felt as if all the colour in the world trailed behind Wade like a cape on his back and got sucked out of his sight. Peter fell, and it didn't give him determination. Peter fell, and took down his world with him. Peter fell, and Wade wasn't there to catch him. 

His leg burned, like hitting a fresh bruise. Peter bit back his cry.

“Peter! Are you alright?” Steve was by his side, helping him get up. And this time, he didn't fight back. 

But he had to get out, he had to go after Wade. Every second longer he spent here was the longer Wade had to get further away. He had to stop him. But Peter made no sudden movement, letting himself hang limply by his father's side. He scanned the floor with wide eyes as if it would have all the answers. His brain was running a thousand miles a minute, it felt overheated, it was too much for him to handle. His eyes started to sting.

“Tony.” Steve hissed through his teeth, talking as if Peter wasn't clinging to his side, “What was that?”

Tony just stared at his husband and son in disbelief, trying to keep his busted lip from bleeding, “What was wha- I'm the one who got hit!”

“You provoked him!”

“Provoked- I didn't provoke shit! It's him that has ears like an elephant!”

Peter stopped listening after that. The more time that passed, the more he was getting anxious. And if it wasn't for the ache in his leg, he would already be dashing after Wade. But god knows where he ran off to or how fast he's going. Peter shivered. He didn't like that thought, Wade going, leaving. Especially now. After what he said. God Peter wished he was here right now. He wished Wade didn't have trained hearing. He wished Tony never whispered whatever the fuck he said. Peter wished he never put on these god damn shorts. It was all because of the shorts.

Now Tony's words rang in his head, he looked up at his dad who was staring angrily to the side, mouth sealed shut. 

“Dad?” Peter couldn't stop himself from speaking, just like he couldn't stop Wade. And the sadness that crept into his voice couldn't be help. He felt as if all his walls came crumbling down and now any filter he had deteriorated. Reality felt a bit altered, but his voice sincere, “Do you hate me?” He felt like a kid or asking that. Sometimes Peter forgot he was still one. 

Both of his fathers' heads turned to look at him. Steve was shocked at the question and Tony's expression was pained with guilt. In a few short steps he was in front Peter, one hand touching his face while the other hung limply at his side. 

“God, Peter, no.” Tony's thumb felt soft against his cheek, it was unusual compared to his normally overworked hands, “I don't- I mean, I just said that because-” Tony paused, hesitating over the words caged in his lips, “Because-” He sighed, dropping his head and his hand to the side of Peter's neck, his thumb still reaching his cheek, “If only you knew what Wade has done, you'd- you'd hate him too.” 

What Tony was saying, it didn't make any sense. Peter cast his glance to the side. He knew it, not what Wade did, but what he should have done. He should have asked Wade what happened sooner. He shouldn't have been avoiding the truth. And he knew if he would have just asked Wade, he would have told him everything. It would only take a question to snap Wade, but Peter didn't ask it. He realized his mistake now, but he didn't know if he regretted it. Peter couldn't find it in himself to regret running away from the truth. This past month has been near perfection, but now it was all coming apart in one fowl motion. For the longest time, he didn't want to know the truth. He wanted to keep living in his delusion that everything was okay. He was scared. He didn't want to hate Wade. He didn't want to get hurt. Not again. 

“Do you-” Even now Peter couldn't find it in him to ask what happened. 

“Do I know?” Tony dreadfully finished his sentence for him and all Peter could do was nod his head. He couldn't bear to look at his dad, “Yeah.” Tony's voice was soft and full of regret, “I do.”

“How-” Peter sighed, finally dragging his head up to face his dad again. The grip he had on the back of Steve's shirt tightened and he felt his Pops squeeze his waist, “How long have you known?” 

“A while.” The more Tony admitted, the more Peter wished he would shut up, “A month or so.” He took one look at the expression on his sons face and immediately became desperate, “Pete, you gotta understand, it wasn't my place to tell you. It's something- It's something you have to hear from Wade.” 

Peter hung his head again, whispering more to himself than anyone else, “God, I'm so stupid.” 

Steve frowned and pressed his lips to his son's head, “You're not stupid, Peter. You're strong and brave and smart.”

Peter shook his head, angry tears rising to his eyes. But he would not cry, “I was a coward. I knew-” He gulped, “I knew something bad happened in order for Wade to escape. I knew it. But I- I just never asked because I was scared. I was a scared, stupid little boy that couldn't face the truth.”

Peter hated the silence that followed. He knew his parents were exchanging a look. A look of deciding who would be the one to comfort him. Tony's hand felt especially heavy on his shoulder.

“Peter.” He said his name so soundly, as if addressing an employee rather than his son, “It's time you hear the truth. Not from me, not from anyone else, but Wade. Can you stand?” 

Peter only had to look at his dad to know what he was getting at. He nodded his head and unwrapped his arm from Steve, standing on his own. 

“Can you walk?” 

“I think so.” Peter took a few steps, wobbly at first, but not too bad in the end. He look back at his dads for approval. They exchanged a worry glance before hardening their expressions. 

“Go after him.” Tony gave a slight nod and Peter couldn't hide his smile. 

“But be careful!” Steve cut in, never able to hide his concern as well as his husband, “And I swear if your leg is even itchy, you come straight home. Got it?”

Peter's smile only grew bigger, “Thanks Dad, thanks Pops.” He headed for the elevator, the whole ride down panicking over that he didn't know where Wade went. 

Except he did. 

Peter knew exactly where Wade would be. 

The apartment. 

~~ 

Peter wasn't suppose to be doing this. Hell, he wasn't even suppose to be walking on his own yet let alone running, let alone web-slinging, let alone wall crawling. But that's where he was right now, and he swore he felt each pump of blood go through the veins in his leg. But he couldn't back down now. Especially not now since he was sticking to the side of Wade's apartment. His apartment? Whatever. Point was, Peter was clinging to the side of the building, just near the window he usually crawled through. But he hasn't yet. He hasn't even peaked inside the apartment. Peter inched closer, heart pounding in his ears. He was scared shitless, but forced himself to look in the window anyway. 

Darkness was the first thing to greet his eyes before his senses kicked in. Peter had to bite back his gasp once his vision adjusted. The apartment looked exactly the same as before. Weeks ago it had been trashed and he had been kidnapped, and the scene looked exactly the same. Furniture flipped over, smashed glass, the broken table, nothing has changed. It took Peter a minute or two to realize that he wasn't staring at complete darkness, there was a single light coming from the kitchen. It came from the fridge, door open and light filtering through. It illuminated a silhouette sitting on the ground, Peter immediately recognized the broad shoulders and the curve of the back as it arched into a ball like position. Wade was curled up on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Whatever Peter came here to talk about immediately left his mind at the sight of Wade. He wanted to go in there and sit next him and, without a word, hold as much of him as possible. He wanted to ask what was wrong and press his lips against Wade's skin, letting him know that he was here. But that was the thing, Wade didn't know he was here. And Peter couldn't find it in himself to knock on the window. 

He crawled onto the roof, sitting on the edge and letting his feet dangle. He released a breath the didn't know he was holding, trying to clear his head. 

This whole thing was a mess, just a complete, stupid, mess. Peter pulled off his Spiderman mask, running his thumb and index finger through it. In that moment, he wanted to throw his mask as far away as possible and burn this ridiculously tight spandex suit that he's pretty sure is cutting off circulation in his body. He felt light headed. Peter didn't deserve this suit, he shouldn't get to wear his mask. He was a coward. He ran away from his problems instead of facing them. He ignored every chance he got to discover the truth and just pretended everything was fine. That's not what heroes do. Heroes don't run away, they stare danger in the eye and challenge it. Heroes don't back out when they're scared, they put on their mask so the enemies don't see their fear and muster up some bravery. Peter didn't do that. For a whole fucking month he avoiding doing that. He was a coward. How could anyone look him in the eyes and tell him differently? 

He felt light headed.

“Peter?” The voice was so soft that Peter could almost pass it off as the wind, cold and curious, sending chills through his body. But he recognized it all too well and the moment the voice hit his ears, Peter jumped. Maybe he got scared, maybe it was just pure surprise, but he got no warning that someone was coming, so he jumped up. He got to his feet so quickly that he couldn't ignore the wave of dizziness that swayed his body. When he leaned too close to the edge, he waved his arms frantically through the air, trying to balance himself, but he already knew he was going to fall. Peter braced himself and got his webs ready, but just as he felt he was gonna tip off the building, he didn't. Peter didn't fall because Wade was there to catch him. He felt Wade's arm wrap around his waist and pull him back until he bumped into his chest. That's when Wade's arms came up and clung to the front of his shoulders like he was a koala on Peter's back. Peter didn't question it when Wade buried his head on in the crook of his neck from behind and pressed closer to him. But being in Wade's arms again, it took Peter's breath away. 

Neither of them spoke for a while. Being in Wade's arms, Peter has done it so many times, but this time felt different. It was a sensation that he recognized yet didn't, like walking into a new school for the first time. And Wade? He was holding Peter differently, tightly. He could feel Wade's heart beat against his back. Wade seemed to be shaking, as if he was on the brink of breaking. And maybe he was, Peter wasn't sure. But there was something different in the way Wade was holding him, as if it was the last time. He held Peter like he meant it, like his life depended on it. Wade's breaths on the back of his neck was starting to bother him. They were hot and quick and Peter just wanted Wade to shut up already and kiss him. Wade pressed his lips behind Peter's ear and whispered, “Lie to me.” He dropped his hold down to Peter's waist, his hands were hot even through the suit. 

Peter tried to turn his head to see Wade, but he couldn't. Wade was hiding from his view, his face tucked into Peter's hair. 

“Wade...”

“Please.” Wade's voice broke and he sounded just as desperate as he did the first time. Peter's heart melted, feeling so hot yet so cold at the same time. He got goosebumps and Peter told himself it wasn't because Wade's breathing.

He didn't want to lie to him anymore.

Peter wanted to tell Wade that he wasn't lying when he said it, that he meant it every time. Then again he was too scared to admit it. But Peter was done running. He came here to talk, he just needed to find the right words. But Wade made it hard to concentrate. He was pulling Peter back into his labyrinth all over again. Sometimes he forgot what Wade did to his chest. How he made it hurt with every bitter sweet beat. How he made it tighten with just a simple look and god forbid a touch. Peter didn't want to lie anymore.

He was done running away. 

“I love you.” Peter's words got swept away with the wind and left his lips too softly. He tried to put his whole heart into it, silently telling Wade that there was no bluff. Wade's arms squeezed Peter's waist tighter as he lifted his head.

“Again.” 

Peter snaked his arms backwards to loop around Wade's neck as he leaned his head against his shoulder, looking up at the inky sky, “I love you.”

Whatever he came up here to talk about was gone. 

Wade didn't have to say anything to get Peter to say it for a third time, “I love you.” Peter never knew that his lips could feel lonely.

And then they didn't.

Peter didn't know if he broke first or if Wade did, but the next thing he knew they were kissing. After a month of being restricted to late night cuddles and the occasional daylight hug, He forgot how much Wade's kisses burned. They set his mouth on fire then he let the rest of his body burn with it. Peter turned around so that they were chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, and he never broke the kiss. With his arms already around Wade's neck, he placed his hands on each side of Wade's face and pulled him closer, meanwhile Wade had one hand tangled in Peter's hair, holding the back of his head, and the other wrapped so tightly around Peter's waist it might as well be a part of him. Beneath his finger tips, Peter felt the fabric of Wade's mask, he didn't even notice he was wearing it until now. It's been so long since he wore his Deadpool suit Peter almost forgot about it all together. He was quickly reminded of why he came here in the first place, but how can you talk when your tongue is getting burnt? 

Wade's kissing was sloppy, it always has been. And Peter missed it. He missed the way Wade seemed to be hungry while kissing him. He missed the way Wade, if he needed to take a breath, wouldn't stop kissing him or even pull away; he would just continue kissing the sides of Peter's mouth instead so that they would never be apart. And Peter missed the way Wade's tongue always seemed to be out of sync with his, yet somehow that made him an even better kisser. And he was a biter, sometimes between kisses Wade would take Peter's bottom lip between his teeth and pull back slightly before Peter would pull him back in. It was a silent way Wade let him know that if he wanted to keep kissing, pull him in again. And so he did, every time. 

After a month of nighttime cuddles and daylight hugs, Peter needed this. He loved it. And he loved the way Wade was kissing him as if he needed him too.

Peter felt so full, he thought the might implode. His chest was too small for his heart as it pounded painfully against its walls. He had to release it.

“I love you,” Peter whispered between kisses, hoping Wade might say it back, “Wade.”

“Hm?” That's all he got, a simple hum in return. Wade felt so distant yet sounded so close.

“I'm in love with you.” Another kiss and Wade's arm tightened around Peter's waist, “Wade,” More kissing, “I love you.” It felt like Wade was going to pop out Peter's hip, “Wade I-”

“I know!” Wade shouted and pushed Peter away, swiping at his mouth. Peter stumbled back in confusion. Both of them were panting, “Just stop saying that already! Stop lying to me!”

Peter wanted to yell back, confessing how he wasn't lying. He never was. But he bit his tongue instead, staying silent.

“Just what do you want from me Peter?! Why are you here?” 

Peter thought about why he came here, then he said something different, “Because you left.” 

“No shit I left, you said you didn't need me anymore!”

He was shocked, was this why Wade was so upset? 

“Wade,” Peter's tone came out harsher than he intended, “I just meant I didn't need you to walk anymore. I still need-”

“Don't.” Wade cut him off, pointing an accusing finger at him before letting his hand drop to his side, “Just don't say it.”

Peter frowned, “Why not?”

“Because you don't mean it.”

Peter was starting to get a little pissed, “Yes I do.”

“No, you don't.” 

Peter wished Wade would take off his stupid mask, “Yes, I-”

“No you don't!” Wade took a few steps closer to him, “You don't Peter!”

“And why not!?” Peter knew this was it, after he started yelling it wouldn't be stopping for a while.

“Because someone like you doesn't need someone like me!” Wade shouted and Peter was proved wrong. The yelling did stop. He was speechless. He stared at the dead eyes of Wade's mask, wishing that x-ray vision could have been one of his superpowers. Wade saw how intense his stare was and turned around, arms folded over his chest. 

Peter wanted to do two things. 

One. He wanted to walk up behind Wade and hug him.

Two. He wanted to ask what Wade meant. 

Peter did neither of those things. Instead, he said, “The truth.”

“What?” Wade turned his head just enough so he could see Peter behind him.

“That's why I came here.” Peter answered without really knowing what he was saying, “I want to know what really happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't play dumb Wade, you know what I mean.”

Wade sighed and when he still didn't answer, Peter continued, “My dad said some...things” And you said some things too, he wanted to add, but didn't. This was a more pressing matter, “Something about...” Peter hesitated, he didn't want to say it. All this time he knew it. Since the very first day he woke up Wade was acting different, like he was keeping a secret. Peter almost already knew what that secret was, he just didn't want to admit to himself. Hell, he wasn't even sure he wanted to admit it to himself right now.

“Me taking lives?” Wade finished his sentence for him. There was a mix of anger, disgust and remorse in his voice. He sounded as if he would break at any second yet appeared to be standing strong. Peter hated that. With Wade's mask on, all he could go by was the tone of his voice and body language. Peter wished he would take off his damn mask, his face always gives everything away. That way, Peter would know what Wade really meant and what he's lying about. 

“Yeah.” Peter gulped, scratching the back of his neck, “That.”

Wade rocked back and forth on his heels before saying, “Wanna sit?” 

A bit taken a back, Peter replied, “Uh, sure.” On that note they sat down cross legged across from each other. Peter watched their knees just barely touch and Wade who backed up a bit once they did. He fought the urge to move closer, the anger from earlier seemed to have disappeared. It just felt as though they were sitting on a roof about to share juicy stories. In a way, they were, but it felt normal. Peter wanted this feeling to last as long as possible. Maybe that was naive of him, but he stopped caring. 

“Okay, shoot.” 

Peter looked up, not realizing he was picking at the nothingness on the roof, “Huh?”

“Ask me.” 

He still wasn't getting it. Wade continued.

“How I heroically escaped Weapon-X, for a second time.” He winked and Peter leaned back a little. This wasn't the same Wade that was standing on the roof shouting at him a few minutes ago. He went with it anyway. 

“Okay, how did you escape Weapon-X?” Peter was still hesitant, like he said before, sitting on the roof with Wade felt normal. And now Wade was acting like his normal self. Peter felt like kissing him again.

Wade sighed, preparing himself like he was about to tell an epic story, “Okay so there I was, trapped in that glass box container...thing.” 

Peter couldn't help chuckling. Despite knowing this wasn't going to be a story he's gonna enjoy, Wade made it seem that way. Like it was a made up fairy tale or a ghost story everyone knew was fake but listened with wide eyes anyway. He almost wished that was the case. But when Wade started talking, he lost his heroic voice and spoke quickly all in one breath. Peter almost missed what he had said. 

“So basically I broke out of the glass by knocking it over and I had a hidden gun in my boot so I started shooting in every direction possible which led to the shit heads dropping their guns so I picked those up every time I ran out of bullets and killed everyone in a blind rage before getting you and getting the fuck out of there. The end.” Wade finished his story and got up before Peter could even blink and register what he had said. He started walking towards the edge of the roof, Peter quickly got up and followed him. 

“Wait, what did you say?”

Wade turned around and Peter backed up a few steps. He's never seen Wade so casual in his stance before. Shoulders relaxed, hands in the pockets of his suit's pants, and head tilted slightly to the side. He almost seemed annoyed. 

“You need me to repeat all of that?”

Peter shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, “No, no I heard.” Oh but he didn't. Well, he did, but didn't at the same time. He heard everything that Wade said, he just wasn't sure if he believed it. But why would Wade lie? What was really throwing him off was how calm Wade was being about this. Usually by now they would already be fighting. But Wade? Peter got the sense that he just didn't care. And now he was the one getting pissed off.

“Good. Then I guess we're done here.” Wade walked past Peter and flinched when their shoulders brushed together, but he kept going. It took a moment before Peter realized that he was heading for the exit. Peter grabbed onto his wrist and Wade almost seemed disgusted. 

“Wait.” Peter breathed, bracing himself for the answer to the question he didn't want to ask, “What do you mean by you killed everyone?” 

He saw Wade tense, even if it was just for a second, he saw it. He finally got a reaction out of him that wasn't emotionless. Wade sighed, “Everyone includes, the Weapon-x agents, their boss that smells like a vagina Ian, and” Wade paused before rushing through his next sentence, “all the people we failed to save the first time so they got kidnapped.” 

Even though the grip Peter had around Wade's wrist tightened, he still slipped free and continued walking towards the roof's exit stairs. Peter couldn't breath His throat was tight and his stomach was flipped upside down, he felt like puking. Again. It happened again. Deadpool killed more people, this time innocent people. They didn't work for evil agencies, they haven't tortured hundreds of people. They were all just civilians. And now the ones Peter failed to save the first time, the ones him and Wade were going to try to rescue, were gone. Dead by the hands of the man that was slowly getting away from him.

He was a monster.

So why did Peter want him to stay?

“W-Wait!” Peter called out, knowing now he had to think of something to say. He should have asked sooner. He should have gotten to the bottom of this sooner. The day he woke up he should have asked Wade what happened instead of waiting. Because of his waiting people were dead. People he maybe could have saved or at the very least called the police while they go check for survivors. But he didn't. Peter didn't do any of that because he was selfish. He put his needs first and his needs were Wade. This past month was bliss. And Peter traded the lives of all the kidnapped people for a month of happiness. A month of very few flaws. Flaws that Peter was blind to. But now he wasn't. Now he could see clearly. 

Wade stopped walking but didn't turn around. 

“You- you really killed all those people?” Even now Peter still didn't want to believe it. 

“Yup.” Wade's voice was calm but he started rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Wade, they were innocent. What about everything we were working to do?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “They weren't all that innocent Pete. Let's just say their age wasn't the only thing they had in common with me.” 

Peter almost didn't want to ask what Wade meant. He knew that all the kidnapped victims and/or targets were all male and around Wade's age. But now he was saying there was more? Peter's head started to spin, “What do you mean?”

“I'm saying they were bad people Peter. Hell, I even recognized some of them from my old merc days before Deadpool was a thing. They were probably all gonna end up in jail eventually. And most of them were already half mutated anyway, basically begging to be killed.” 

“Wha-”

“And in my defense-”

“Defense!?” Peter snapped back, having heard enough, “You don't get a defense! You killed them! Nobody-”

“Nobody deserves to die.” Wade finished his sentence while looking up at the sky. Peter could tell he was getting mad too, “I know Peter, we already had this conversation before. 'nobody deserves to die' 'ouin ouin family' 'blah blah morals' I know! I get it! But go look at the fuckers who fucking fucked up your fucking leg in the eyes and tell them that. I bet you wouldn't have the balls. You'd get scared and beg me to shoot them. I did everyone a favour Pete, just accept it.” 

There were no words in the English language that Peter could use to describe what he wanted to say. He was speechless. And at his silence, Wade kept walking, “Where are you going?” Peter called after him but, this time, Wade didn't stop.

“I have no idea! I'm gonna pack all my shit and leave since, you know, I'm not needed here anymore.” Peter hated the smug way Wade was walking. He knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to get Peter to say that he did need him. But Peter wasn't going to break that easily.

“No you're not.” He started and felt his confidence go up once he saw Wade fumble with his steps, “You're leaving because you're scared. You're running away.” That made Wade stop in his tracks, “You always do! As soon as things get tough all you do is run!” Wade was now facing Peter, but didn't come closer, “Either that, or you've been leading me on every since I met you.” 

Wade scoffed, “Wait. You think _I'm_ the one who has been leading _you_ on?” 

“Yeah,” Peter crossed his arms, “For a few months I actually thought you cared about me.”

Wade's hands came out of his pockets and clenched by his sides. Even from here Peter could see him clenching his jaw.

“But I guess I was wrong. I guess you don't care about-” Peter got cut off by his own shock. One moment Wade was at least 10 feet away from him, the next he was just millimeters away from his face, grabbing onto and lifting him up by the shirt of his Spiderman suit. 

“Don't.” Wade huffed, his breaths hot and angry against Peter's face, “Don't you dare say it.”

“Say what? The truth?” He got right back in Wade's face, unafraid to step down.

“How could you fucking say that Peter!? How could you even think that I don't care about you!?”

“Well for starters if you did care you would do a better job of keeping your promise of trying to be good!”

Wade took a step back, “You- You heard what I said?”

Peter nodded his head, “Every word.” It was true, he heard every word of Wade's little speech in the hospital. 

“Okay but for the record I made that promise after I killed everyone so...”

“That's not the point Wade! The point is not only that you killed all those people but then you lied to me about it!”

“Lied to you!?” Wade started yelling again and Peter felt his confidence rapidly start to drop, “When did I ever fucking say that I didn't kill everyone!? You just never asked what happened!” Okay, so he had a point. But would Peter admit that? No. He was stubborn. Unfortunately, so was Wade, “So don't you dare fucking say that I lied to you or that I never cared about you! My problem was that I cared too fucking much!”

Now it was Peter's turn to be shocked, “Wade-”

“No! You don't get to say my name like that Peter, you don't! So just shut up and listen! I cared too fucking much about you, god I still do! I didn't run away in the hospital because I cared about you. Hell I went inside a fucking hospital for you. Don't you get it? I did all those things for you! I killed them for you! I went back to Weapon-fucking-X for you! So you don't have any fucking right to claim I never cared about you! It's not my fault that you have a problem with me.”

Peter blinked, “Wait, what?” 

“You heard me. You have a problem with me, I almost think you want me to fail.”

“That's not true!”

“Oh really?! Don't act as if you don't love shoving it in my face every damn time I slip up! It doesn't matter if I kill a hundred people or a fucking butterfly. Every god damn fucking time I make a mistake, you're the first one there to point it out! To choke me by shoving your faulty morals down my throat as if everyone is suppose to live by them. I make one little mistake and to you it's back to square one as if I'm some failed project. While you're living up there on some fucking pedestal of perfection. You think you're so damn perfect, don't ya Pete!? That if anybody wants to do the right thing, they should live the way you do. Well I've tried Peter! I've tried and tried and tried but I just can't do it! I can't be the fucking angel you want me to be, not when your expectations keep getting higher and higher! So sorry to be a disappointment your majesty, but I can't be like you. Perfection doesn't exit when you live in my world.” Wade practically growled that last sentence. Peter thought he was going to remain speechless after Wade's rant, but he just found himself getting angry. 

“Oh boo hoo!” Peter spat right back, it was his turn to get in Wade's face, “Get off the self pity train for one god damn second Wade because I'm sick of it! I'm sick of hearing how 'your world' is so much worse than everyone else's. I have my problems too! And when have I ever claimed that I was perfect? I'm not! I'm far from it! But yeah, maybe I am a little hard on you, but that's just because I care about you too. I want to help you because I care, not because I think of you as some project. I never once thought that and I'm tired of you thinking that I have. I'm tired of feeling guilty for it! For every damn time I see a frown on your face because guess what!? Your happiness is not my responsibility! I help you because I want to. So sorry if I seem a little unsympathetic, but I'm not the one with the problem. You are. I'm not the one who has a problem with you, it's you!” Peter raked a hand through his hair, wanting to look Wade in the eyes, but was only met with the blank white ones of his mask, “Like, seriously Wade! You're so god damn defensive lately and you have the nerve to say that I'm the one with the problem!? You're the one who constantly hates yourself! You're the one who thinks you're ugly! You're the one who thinks so little of yourself! You're the one battling yourself, not me! It's not my battle to fight!” Peter dug his nails into his palms. God he hated Wade's mask right now. He felt angry tears rise in his eyes. 

“I never asked you to fight it!” Wade shouted back but that was all Peter let him say before continuing.

“I know that! I fight for you because I want to! I fight for you so that maybe you'll feel a little less lonely! I fight and I fight and I fight but I can't win because I'm not suppose to be fighting! I wish I could lift some of your burdens, I wish I could make you feel less lonely but I can't! I can't do it Wade and I hate it! I hate that I can't help you! I hate that all I can do is stand by and watch as you fight a losing battle because you won't let me help you! I hate it!” Peter swiped at his eyes, refusing to let his tears fall, “It's like you're obsessed with being on your own! It's like you forgot that people are allowed to love you!”

“Shut up!” Wade screamed and covered his ears, Peter narrowed his eyes. 

“I get that you're scared Wade, but-”

“No! You don't get it Peter!” 

“What don't I get!?”

“Nobody is allowed to love me!” Wade shouted and stepped closer to him, their chests nearly touching and Peter had to look up, “Nobody can love me!”

That was the last straw. He reached up and ripped off Wade's mask, “Look me in the eyes and say that!” 

Wade stayed silent. 

“Look me in the eyes and say everything that you just did! Tell me how I'm not allowed to love you Wade! Tell me how every time I said that I love you, it doesn't count!” 

“It doesn't!” Wade got his voice back, “You only said it because I made you! Because you were lying!”

Peter wanted to slap Wade across the face, “Stop saying that! I'm not lying and I never was!” Wade's eyes grew wide, “And you know what's really fucking frustrating Wade!? Telling someone you love them time after time again and having them not believe you! Telling someone you love them but they think you're lying! But on top of all of that, what really takes the cake, is telling someone you love them and they never say it back to you! Just telling someone I love you I love you I love you and waiting for them to say it back! And I just can't wait anymore Wade! I just want to hear you say it! Just say...” Peter panted, what the hell was he saying? He should stop talking. Why wasn't he stopping? “Just, please...say it. Say- say that you...you...” Peter had to bury his face in his hands and squeeze his eyes shut. Fuck. He wasn't crying he wasn't crying he wasn't crying. 

“I love you.” Wade whispered and Peter's head snapped up, “I love you.” The words fit Wade's lips perfectly. Even better than when he was yelling them at Tony, saying how he loved his son. But god, they were so much better when they were directed at Peter, “I love you.” Wade said it again, sounding as if he was reassuring himself. 

Peter lost his ability to talk. He lost his ability to think. He felt dead but so alive at the same time. And Wade? Even though they were pressed up against each other in order to yell directly in each other's faces, he felt too far away. Peter thought he'd be ready for this moment. He'd thought after they both finally confessed they'd be like, making out or having sex or something. Not standing on the roof top having just finished yelling at each other and not having a fucking clue what to do or say next. Were they done fighting? Now that it was all out of their systems did they forgive each other? Peter wished he had the answers. He wished he was in some perfect world where that was the case. Where they could have a romantic kiss and it would start raining and they wouldn't care and Jesus Christ he had to wake up because Wade is still talking and he wasn't listening. 

“Peter? Did you hear what I said?”

“Huh?” Peter felt heat rush to his cheeks. 

“I told you I love you.”

“Oh.” This wasn't going the way he planned. It wasn't even raining, “Yeah. I heard.”

“So?”

“So.” Peter echoed Wade's words meaninglessly and fiddled with his masks in his hands. Wait, Wade's mask. Peter almost forgot about it. He looked down at his hands and spread the fabric through his fingers before looking back up at Wade, “Who's saying it?”

“What?” Wade's gaze flickered from Peter, to his mask, and back again.

“Who loves me?”

“I do?” Wade seemed confused at first but then it clicked. His eyes grew scared, almost saddening, as he begged, “Petey-Pie, please don't.”

Peter couldn't look him in the eyes as he spoke, “Who are you?” He held up Wade's mask.

“Shit, Peter.” Wade sounded like he wanted to cry as he placed his face in his hands and started to pace back and forth, “Don't make me choose again.”

Peter swallowed the bile in his throat, trying to keep his nerves under control, “Who are you?” 

“I-I'm your boyfriend.” Wade walked right up to him and placed a hand on his cheek. At Wade's touch, he almost broke. He was almost tempted to throw the mask away, kiss Wade, and say all was forgiven...again. But he didn't, Peter stood still.

“Who are you?”

“I'm the one who loves you.” There were actual tears gathering in Wade's eyes.

“Who are you?”

“I'm the one who'll do anything for you.” Wade dropped his hand and it brushed against Peter's fingers. It took all his will power not to grab his hand and hold it, “Just dammit Peter, don't make me choose.”

“Please.” Peter's voice broke and he cursed himself for it, “Tell me who you are.”

“Don't you see? I can't! It's- It's an impossible choice because you're asking me to choose between someone who kills people and someone who's already dead.” At Wade's words, Peter had to look him in the eyse. Wade's eyes, they were Peter's favourite part of him and over the past month the life in his eyes came back. They were their regular ocean blue and Peter could swear he'd be able to swim in them. Their colour was back, that meant Wade was also back. 

“Wade Wilson isn't dead.” Peter's voice came out surprisingly calm when he said that. Maybe because when he looked into Wade's eyes, he was certain of his statement. 

“Yes he is!” Wade grabbed onto Peter's hands, holding them and his mask. Peter was scared he was about to grab his mask and choose to be Deadpool all over again. Maybe that's why Peter flinched back, maybe that's why he pulled his hands away because he didn't want Wade to choose Deadpool. Maybe he wouldn't let him make that choice.

Peter changed his question, “Do you want to be good?” Wade's expression went from desperate to shocked. He glanced at the ground, hesitating. And for that half second Peter thought the world might be crashing down. 

But then Wade looked up.

“Yes.” He said and Peter now knew his answer. 

“Then Wade Wilson isn't dead.” Wade just stared at Peter as too many tears filled his eyes. He swiped at them before Peter took his hand and placed his mask back in it. Wade locked eyes with the white ones of his mask, staring down at it as if it was a foreign object. Then he dropped it and a second later pulled Peter into a hug. He didn't hesitate to hug back as Wade buried his face in his neck. He didn't start sobbing, but Peter felt tears dampen his skin.

“I'm sorry Peter, I'm so fucking sorry.” Wade clung to him for dear life and Peter squeezed him right back. No matter how tight the hug got, it was never tight enough.

“I know Wade.” He whispered back, each word felt like the right thing to say, “I know.”

“I wanna be good, I really do. I'll- I'll make this up to you, I swear it. We'll have so much makeup sex, I'll suck your dick right off.” 

Peter laughed and had to blink back his own tears. So it wasn't the most perfect make up in the world, but that was okay. If there was one thing Wade taught him it's that it's okay to be flawed, because that's exactly what everyone was. Everyone was stubborn. Everyone was insure. Everyone gets scared and everyone runs. Peter himself has many flaws, but Wade wasn't one of them. There was once a time where he thought loving Wade was mistake that he'll regret, that there must be something wrong with him, that he couldn't possibly love a man like that. But now Peter just smiled to himself. 

How could he ever regret loving Wade Wilson?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope none of y'all are lactose intolerant cause that chapter was loaded with cheese   
> (I'm not even sorry for that ending line)
> 
> Also this fanfic is almost done, surprise.


	35. Chapter 34

Wade grew up believing happy endings didn't exist, not for him anyway. Every story began with Once Upon a Time, but all those sappy endings where the couples ride off into the sunset are complete bullshit. His mom always told him otherwise, but he never believed her. All those stories she would tell him about princesses and princes finding each other and loving each other, he knew those were only fairytales. Once upon a time he did think everyone grew up to have a happy ending, but his dad made sure to straighten him out. So story time with his mom was ruined from then on. He stopped believing in very tales and he grew up. 

But now? Now Wade never felt more terrified and like a child. 

And he wanted his happy ending. 

So maybe that's why he went up to the roof when he heard Peter's soft footsteps climb up there. Maybe that's why he caught Peter from falling off the roof instead of letting him save himself. Maybe that's why he begged Peter to lie to him, just one last time before he left. Maybe that's why Wade kissed him. But then Peter wouldn't stop. He didn't stop saying it. He didn't stop lying and Wade couldn't take it because Peter sounded so sincere. And for a moment, Wade believed him. He knew that was dangerous. Maybe that's why he pushed Peter away.

And then there was their fight. Oh god their fight. Wade said so many things, so many things he meant but didn't want to mean. And Peter said things. Things Wade didn't want to hear but needed to. Maybe that's why he broke. As soon as the words left Peter's mouth and lingered in the air, he broke down. 

_Wade Wilson isn't dead._

Peter had said it with such confidence Wade was almost naive enough to believe him. But how could he? How could someone who Wade thought was long gone, be alive? He was Deadpool, it's who he was and all he'll ever be. That's what he believed. But hearing Peter make such a bold statement without hesitation, Wade doubted his own truth. 

Maybe that's why he told Peter he loved him. 

Because shit he loved that boy. 

And maybe that's why Wade led Peter back inside the apartment building and was currently searching for the doorknob to his apartment blindly because he didn't want to break their kiss for one second. He didn't exactly remember when they started kissing, hell, he didn't even remember going back inside the building, but here they were, pressed against a wall and searching for that fucking knob. He was half terrified that one of the neighbours would walk out at any second and see them, but that fear became blurred every time Peter pulled him back in. His hands burned against his face and Wade was almost tempted to push Peter away again because it hurt. But he loved it. 

{Think baby boy will oppose to makeup sex in hall?}

[I mean, that's kinda fucking hot. Just look at him.]

Wade couldn't argue. He would gladly admit how hot Peter looked pressed against the boring beige wall of the halls, sweat already forming on his hair line and his entire face nearly red. And god that fucking look in his eyes drove Wade mad. In that moment, he wanted Peter all to himself. No one else could look at him, at those eyes. 

“Peter,” Wade tried to talk, but breathing was hard enough already. 

“Hm?” Peter never let go of Wade's face, his burning finger tips sent chills through his body. 

“I...I can't...” Another kiss broke off Wade's word. But when the kiss stopped and didn't return, he had to open his eyes. Regret sunk in his chest once he saw the expression on Peter's face. Eyes wide, his perfect chocolate browns unbearably sweet. Mouth parted, his perfects lips tinted a dark shade of pink. And his eyebrows, arched with fear masked by concern. Wade quickly finished his sentence, “I can't find the handle.”

Relief. Peter wore it so well. 

“Oh,” He laughed in a breath and bent his arm at an awkward angle to find the doorknob that Wade could only assume was pressed into his back. Seconds later, Peter manage to open the door and they went tumbling into the apartment. Wade wrapped an arm around Peter's waist and caught him in a dip before they fell to the floor. 

{That's twice now we kept Peter from falling.}

[We're on a roll.]

Wade smiled. Whether it was from what his thought boxes just said or from the look on Peter's face, he smiled. No, more like grinned. he was fucking grinning. He didn't know why, this whole night has been a complete fucking mess. 

Mess.

Wait.

Oh shit.

Wade's eyes unwillingly left Peter's soft face to linger around the apartment. It was as messy as the night had been. Nothing change since he trashed the place. All month he never returned here to tidy up. 

{We fucked up.}

[Yup. Big time.]

When Wade flickered his gaze back on Peter, their eyes didn't meet. Peter's eyes were wandering around the room, the warmth from his face gone and replaced with sadness. No, not sadness. Pity. His brown pearls were filled with pity. Wade felt hate flare inside his chest as his grip started to slip from Peter's waist. It wasn't until Peter grabbed his bicep with one hand and set the other on his cheek did he rethink his actions. Just like that, Peter sucked him back in and Wade was suffocating. Peter leaned up, one of his legs pressed up against Wade's thigh while the other was outstretched to hold himself up. Wade's eyes lingered on every curve of his body and he noticed how specifically tight the Spiderman suit was. Never more in his life has he hated that suit. Almost in defense, he cracked a joke, “Don't mind the mess.”

Peter's laugh cracked Wade's heart, making the insides melt out. Up until this point Wade never really knew what Peter meant by having his senses hyped up because of his powers, but in this moment, he felt like he finally understood. It felt as if all his senses were dialed up a few notches and his focus was staring to slip as he could only concentrated on nothing but the boy he was gazing at. Wade's eyes were scanning Peter, capturing every detail of his face, his skin, his body. And Wade's finger tips felt like fire every time he touched him, almost having mastered every dent or curve he has, yet they all felt like new. Wade could feel the wall of heat that was forming between them and came crumbling down as Peter grabbed the front of his Deadpool suit and pulled him into another kiss. 

Wade almost didn't realize it happened until it did. 

The familiar softness of Peter's lips were on his and Peter's taste filled his mouth. Yet Wade wanted more. He dipped Peter further down to deepen the kiss. Wade was hungry and he sure as hell kissed like it. But he was also desperate. Peter was pressed so close to him, yet it still wasn't enough. Wade couldn't describe what he was feeling. It felt like everything but his mind felt like nothing. As if a weight has been lifted or like he just sat down after being on his feet all day. Relief. Numbness. Bliss. And he wanted more. 

With their lips wound tightly together, he brought Peter up from the dip and place his hand to grip Peter's thigh. He squeezed and Peter took that as a sign to jump up, wrapping both legs around Wade's waist as he held him in place. Now Peter was the one who had to tilt his head down to keep the kiss going. It drove Wade crazy in the best way possible. The way Peter had both his hands placed on his face, physically keeping him from pulling away, it was enough for Wade to find the nearest wall and pressed Peter against it. With the support of the wall and Peter's legs keeping himself up, Wade's hands were free to roam. And he sure as hell took advantage of the opportunity. His favourite place to lose his hands was in Peter's hair. It was like a blanket of tangles, heat surrounded his every knuckle. His heart swelled at the shagginess of Peter's uncut hair and how it started to hang almost below his eyes now. Wade gladly combed his hair back so he could see Peter's rich eyes every time they pulled back from kissing. They never lost contact for long, Wade would move to kiss the corners of Peter's mouth or along his jaw every time they needed a breather, or he would kiss that part on Peter's neck that made his breath hitch. 

“Oh fuck it.” Peter's voice was breathy and his words came out slurred as he pulled off the shirt of his Spiderman suit. It wasn't fair. How could someone be so captivating? Wade felt more vulnerable than ever before, gazing upwards at Peter, watching him toss his shirt to the side to fully expose his chest. He couldn't stop himself from staring. Staring at Peter's abdomen that was lined with sweat, staring at his unblemished chest that was soon to be covered in marks if Wade does say so himself, and staring at his lean shoulders dusted with pink. If Peter wanted to, in this moment, he could bend Wade to his will. He would do anything for this boy. But he cracked a joke instead with a shit eating grin.

“Don't you mean 'Oh fuck me?'” 

Peter laughed and kissed him on the forehead before pulling off the shirt of his Deadpool suit, throwing it aside before placing his hands back on Wade's face and pulling him into another sloppy kiss. At first Wade couldn't believe this was Peter he was kissing. Peter, who use to be too shy to even make eye contact for too long. Peter, who use to awkwardly stand there while Wade would hug him. Peter, who was tense until he melted into the kiss. But now? Now it was he who was making Wade melt. It was Peter who was kissing with as much desperation as he felt. It was Peter, who started it all. 

Wade never felt more aware of his own heartbeat. 

Every thump, every pound, he could hear it in his ears and feel it in his throat. It was a tempo to keep with every kiss, faster, harder, faster, harder. In this moment he wondered if Peter's heart was racing too. Faster. Harder.

“Bedroom?” Wade's voice almost came out in a hiss. A breath of a whisper that chilled the body.

Peter's tone was nearly the same, “Yeah.” 

But they didn't move, not right away. First Wade had a little business to take care of. His fingers trailed down and looped inside the waistband of Peter's pants. He tugged once just to hear the soft grunt that escaped Peter's lips between the kisses. Then he tugged some more until he could slip his hands in and cup around Pete's hip bones, hands fitting perfectly inside the dip. Wade made circles with his thumbs against the fabric of the boxers and smirked against Peter's lips when he squirmed beneath the gentle touch, pressing his hips forwards to get more friction but it never came. Peter visibly swallowed and Wade took joy in watching his Adam’s Apple bob before he finally started slipping the pants off his baby boy. They landed just a few feet away from his shirt. The boxers, however, stayed on. For now. 

Wade leaned back, he had to, just for a moment, to look at Peter. The rush and neediness from before was starting to fade. If they weren't kissing for ever second or if hands weren't roaming bodies every minute who cared? Now Wade just wanted to take every moment one at a time, mentally taking pictures of Peter, studying every detail of the situation. His swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and lewd eyes. His blushing shoulders, curved back, and narrow hips. They way his chest filled with a little more air than necessary and the shaky breaths that came out. The way his legs were twitching and he couldn't stop fidgeting against the wall. He had to move, but Wade wouldn't let him. Not yet. Just a few more moments of staring and he'll get his fill. 

They eventually made it to the bedroom and somewhere along the way every item of clothing they had came off except, regrettably, their boxers. Wade laid Peter down on the bed and the springs moaned beneath their weight.

[That's not the only thing that's gonna be moaning tonight.]

{Ha! Wait, are we actually writing a sex scene?}

[Yup.]

{Uninterrupted???} 

[Yeah, well, except for us. But we're gonna check out soon.]

{Wow. This is, uh, unexpected.}

[Please, it was gonna happen sooner or later. A SpideyPool fic with no smut? Does such a thing exist?]

{Yes...probably...maybe?}

[Buckle up, this is gonna be an awkward ride.]

Wade barely heard let alone acknowledged his thought boxes. They sounded like a distant hum in his usually busy mind. He was distracted. Maybe it was the heat of Peter's body beneath him or the thought that he was gonna fuck Peter's brains out tonight that distracted him. Maybe it was both. He was too busy to care what kept his crystal concentration on Peter, he was just glad that it never faltered. Every freckle on his near perfect skin, every breath that tried to get deeper but failed, they were the only things he took notice of. And the noises Peter made when Wade pressed his lips to any part of his skin, it pulled at his heart every time. Peter wasn't noisy during sex. Ever. Unlike Wade, who not only loved to talk, but he also loved to be as loud as possible. Any moan or groan or sling of curses he felt, he'd say 'em. But now? Now it was Peter who was unable to keep quiet as Wade kiss along his jaw and neck and chest. He kissed directly above Peter's racing heart as the beat of his own heart filled his ears.

God he loved this boy. 

Peter's skin was smooth and warm against Wade's scarred lips, the textures clashed harshly yet fit together. Wade made it his mission to kiss every inch of Peter's skin, leaving no part unexplored. He placed delicate kisses all over Peter's, might he add perfectly toned, chest and abdomen. He left a trail of kisses down each of his arms and on his hands and on every knuckle. Wade never broke eye contact, trapped and locked inside Peter's brown eyes that he adored from the moment he saw his face unmasked. They were as captivating as ever. And Peter's lips, thin and pink and round at the bottom. Perfect for kissing. Wade trailed back up his body and locked lips with him again, an unspoken fragility lingered in their kisses but passion leaked through the cracks. Wade titled Peter's chin up.

God, he loved this boy. 

He wasn't able to keep his hips still any longer, creating sweet, sweet friction between the fabric of their boxers.

{Smutty translation: They're rubbing their boners together.}

As the heat started to build up, the more eager Wade's kisses became. His tongue beautifully out of sync with Peter's, scavenging his taste and never getting enough. He wanted more. More. More. More. He was letting the selfishness of his heart control his actions, running his hands up and down Peter's body with gentle finger tips and kissing Peter's lips with a smooth roughness that left both of them trying to breath in oxygen that didn't exist. Wade sucked the breath out of Peter, feeling as if they stop kissing for a second, he would stop breathing all together. 

God fucking dammit, he loved this boy.

Wade felt down Peter's chest and to the dip in his waist. He fiddled with the elastic of his boxers and listened as Peter's chest heaved then paused, not feeling the need to breath because of Wade's touch. Wade then stretched an arm down, his fingertips almost reaching Peter's ankle before feeling up his leg. Wade's mind was fuzzed, he felt drunk off the heat radiating off his baby boy's body. He was expecting to feel smooth skin, his hand feeling up Peter's leg then eventually getting to the good part. 

{His dick.}

[Everyone knew what the author was referring to.]

But the fact that made Wade stop mid stroke was the roughness of Peter's leg. He felt it and it burned beneath his fingertips, setting his hand and eventually his arm ablaze. Burning with guilt. He felt Peter's scar. It was lumpy and rough and scabbed. The skin was irritated around it. Wade forced himself to break the kiss, his eyes wide and not meeting Peter's. He couldn't look at him. He paused, going completely still. Unable to move his hips, his hand, or his eyes. 

“Wade.” The way his name left Peter's lips, it wasn't fair. It was soft yet annoyed. Impatient but kind. It made Wade squeezed his eyes shut and curl his fist against Peter's leg, “Please don't do this.”

“I'm sorry.” Wade's voice was thick with a potential sob, but he didn't have it in him to cry. Guilt gnawed at his stomach. 

“Don't.” Peter's voice lost all its firmness, he turned Wade's head towards him, “Please just continue.” 

“Are you-” Wade gulped, “Are you sure you want this?” His eyes were open but he wasn't meeting Peter's gaze. Despite the darkness in the room, everything seemed too bright to look at. 

“Ask my dick.” It was a joke, Wade knew it to be, but he didn't laugh. 

His gaze flickered upward, “No, Peter, I mean-” Wade sighed and finally locked eyes with Peter again, “I mean me.” 

He blinked, “What?”

Wade groan. This was seriously a downer on his boner but he just had to know, “How can you forgive me? Shit Peter, I fucked up bad but- but here you are, with me, and I just- I just don't understand it.”

Peter bit his lip, broke eye contact, then looked back at Wade as if he never had a doubt to begin with, “I don't know.” He answered simply but surely. As if he was completely fine with this, “I have no fucking clue why I forgive you. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. I love you Wade, like, fucking hell I love you. But don't ever pull shit like that again I swear to god. But as of right now I was promise makeup sex.”

Wade laughed. It was sad, but he felt so fucking happy. 

God, he loved this boy.

Wade made sure to kiss Peter with extra tenderness, and with each kiss he planted, he made sure it was with love. Love. It use to be use a foreign word to him. An unreachable goal that he felt ridiculous even dreaming over. But now it just made him feel skittish and corny and sappy and he loved it. He loved that he got to be this way, he loved that he got to be cheesy because sometimes the situation called for it. So yeah, maybe Wade whispered 'I love you' to Peter every time he planted a kiss on his flushed skin. And maybe he secretly adored the way Peter couldn't keep still beneath his hands. Or the way Peter was growing impatient and his soft grunts every time Wade tugged at his boxers. 

He pressed his lips in the dip of Peter's stomach leading to his pelvis then one on each dimple of his hips. He pulled Peter's boxers down and kissed the inside of his thighs, then pulled them further and kissed his knees, then finally took the fabric off completely. Wade kissed a trail up Peter's stomach and to his neck, pausing between each kiss to take a second and admire Peter's body. The beginning gleams of sweat, his smooth freckled kissed skin, and the endearing expression he wore with his eyes half closed and mouth half open. Wade kissed that mouth and as he slid up Peter's body, his hand slid down. 

{Smutty translation: He's giving Peter the ol' wank.}

[What?]

{A hand job, jacking him off, wanking. Whatever you wanna call it.}

Wade grinned into the kiss, partly because of what his thought boxes just said, and partly because he was stealing every gasp for breath Peter made. He pulled back and decided to kiss along Peter's jaw, giving him time to breath, but his grin only grew wider the more he felt Peter's thin frame squirm beneath him. He had grabbed onto Wade's shoulders and was adding slight pressure in his finger tips. Peter's nails didn't hurt in Wade's back, it just distracted him from the steady hand motions he was trying to make. Peter seemed to enjoy the uneven pace even more. But it wasn't until Wade squeezed a bit did a shiver run through Peter's body and he took one of his hands to cover his mouth, his teeth sinking into the inside skin of his finger. 

Wade smiled to himself. 

He knew Peter couldn't take much more of this. And neither could he. He felt the urge to fuck someone before. Hell, males are suppose to think about sex every seven seconds or some shit like that. And Wade, well, he always felt like fucking Peter. It's like in his DNA or whatever. But tonight the urge felt different from just every day fucking. There was something more in Wade, something he wasn't able to describe. 

{*blinks away tears, eyes go sparkle sparkle* Wade just didn't want to fuck Peter, he wanted to make love!}

[Oh god.]

{*Peter does the blushies* Wade-Senpai, please put your cock in my tight little ass!}

[Please stop.]

{Why? It's called comedy.}

[This is suppose to be uninterrupted.]

{I guess we did promise that.}

“Hey.” It was Peter's voice and the hand he placed on his cheek that pulled Wade out of his head, “You okay?” 

Wade chuckled breathlessly and press his forehead against Peter's, kissing right between his eyes, “Yeah, I'm okay.” He studied Peter's blushing face and passed his thumb over Peter's lips, leaning in close to him, “I'm gonna start kissing you again.” 

Peter's smile was soft and his eyes were gently close. Wade watched as Peter's cheeks got redder the closer he leaned into him. He paused just before their lips touched. He knew Peter was holding back a whine in his throat.

“Wade.” Peter's voice was gruff and the deepest he has ever heard it. His smile only grew, “Why the fuck aren't you doing anything?”

He tilted Peter's chin up, both hands now occupied, “Depends,” Wade spoke and looked at Peter's eyes, watching as they scanned his face for answers. He leaned in close to him again until their lips merely brushed together. Wade found it hard to resist kissing him, “Say you need me.” He felt Peter's lips smile against his. Never before had he felt so naked in front of him.

This time, Peter titled Wade's head up.

He understood what Wade was trying to say without even saying it. Would it be great to hear Peter pant in a breathless moan how much he wanted Wade to fuck him? Yes. It would be fucking hot. But that wasn't what he was talking about. He wanted Peter to say he needed him. He wanted to hear Peter say he needed him to stay, in this bed, with him, for however long it didn't matter. Wade just had to know he was needed. 

“Stay, please.” Peter kissed his lips as if they might break, “Don't ever leave.”

Wade leaned his head into Peter's touch. 

“I need you, Wade.”

God, he loved this boy. 

Wade leaned to kiss Peter, pressing their lips together fiercely and kissed him like never before, “Can I fuck you now?” Wade whispered, placing sloppy kisses all over Peter's face.

With a curt nod of his head, Wade tossed off his boxers that were starting to get uncomfortably tight in the front and dug the lube and condoms out of his bedside stand. With his fingers, he prepped Peter's ass and with his lips he kissed Peter's until they were sore. 

“I love you.” Wade's voice was barely heard between each kiss he planted on Peter. Lips. Jaw. Neck. Chest. And lips again. He couldn't get enough, and he hoped he never would. With his free hand, Wade intertwined fingers with Peter as he squirm beneath the touch of his other hand. Wade loved what his touches could to do Peter's body. He loved every reaction Peter made and tried to hold off. He loved the quietness of this boy, it made every noise that much more special. But what Wade loved most of all wasn't the noises or the sensation, it was the heat of their hands holding each others. Fitting and gripping together as if their life depended on it, as if they were hanging off an edge. Wade brought Peter's hand up above his head and leaned in close to his ear, “Hands and knees baby boy.” 

Their position quickly changed with a grace Wade surely wouldn't be able to replicate for a second time. He watched Peter get settled on his knees and couldn't resist kissing the dip in his back. Wade leaned forward, getting himself into penetrating position. He traced Peter's curves with his hands and kissed up his back to the nape of his neck. Wade's lips lingered on one of Peter's ears, “I love you.” He kissed behind his ear, “So much.” He started with small thrusts and made sure to place delicate kisses along Peter's shoulders. He watched as Peter's fingers curled against the bed sheets and listened to quiet gasps he released with every movement Wade made. 

God, he loved this boy. 

Biting his lip, Wade gripped Peter's hips as he prolonged his thrusts, moving slower and staying in longer. He straightened his back and titled his head up, spots of pleasure danced in the corners of his eyes. From this position, Wade stared down at Peter and studied every last detail about him. The way his ass was sticking up. The curve in his back where sweat was starting pool. His clenched fist clawing at the bed sheets. His face against the pillow with his eyes squeezed shut to block out the world that was moving too fast for him. Every eyelash fluttering with precision that made Wade's heart light in his chest. Peter's lips, parted enough so he could breath and pink enough to tell that all the kissing they did was started to take effect. Every bead of sweat and every tuff of hair messy hair was perfect. Every freckle or mole on his back were placed as if they were meant to be there. Even the way the moonlight filtered through the blinds on the window, creating bars of light on Peter's back, was flawless. This moment was flawless. 

Peter was flawless. 

Wade watched how Peter's body started trembling beneath him and his cheeks grew a deep shade of red. He knew Peter was close, and Wade wasn't too far off himself (was that sentence awkward? It was awkward wasn't it? This chapter was a mistake). Entranced by Peter, Wade couldn't stop himself from leaning down and wrapping his arms around Peter's slim frame. His arms kept the slender boy from shaking while his hips worked wonders. Wade aligned his lips to the back of Peter's neck, right where his hair line ends, and kissed there. He let the heat of Peter's skin burn his lips and set his chest on fire. Wade wondered if Peter could feel his aching heart against his back, beating so hard it hurt. He planted one more kiss between Peter's shoulder blades before burring his face in Peter's mop for hair. Taking in his scent, one of Wade's hands slid up against Peter's chest, feeling his own heart pound painfully in his ribs, and the other hand slid down to Peter's groin.

Peter was the first to finish.

Seconds later, Wade finished too.

It was perfect. It was absolute. It was flawless.

God, he loved this boy.  
~~  
[This sex scene was brought to you by: The author's older sister who wouldn't stop bugging her until she wrote smut.]

{Hi Walldo!}

[Here's your cream between the Oreos.]

{Now fuck off.}  
~~  
Wade clung to Peter's back, spooning him and holding him closely. Normally, Wade did enjoy being the little spoon. There was something comforting about someone holding you, forcing you to stay. But not tonight. Tonight he felt like being the big spoon. He felt like the one forcing the other to stay. He felt like the one to have the choice. To stay. Or to go. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it. Peter was fast asleep in his arms, snoring softly and unevenly. It would be too easy to slip out the window. Wade was staring at it, the window. The moon was bright tonight. Its rays of light turned the room blue and gave everything a dull glow.

He could do it.

He could leave. He could go and never look back. He could leave Peter behind and be the mercenary he was trained to be. He could stop causing Peter pain by leaving. Never again would he have to scold him for fucking up. Never again would he have to use his anger on him. Never again would Peter have to waist his time with Wade. He could do it. He could leave. He could be Deadpool. 

It was now or never. 

Climb out that window now, or never do it. Be Deadpool now and never be Wade, or be Wade and never Deadpool. Get out of bed now, or never move. Leave Peter now, or never leave him. 

Wade bit his lip, contemplating his choices. His heart ached, feeling like at any moment it was about to burst. 

“Don't.” It was Peter's whisper and the way he tightened his grip on Wade's hand that brought Wade's attention from the moon lit window to the sleeping boy wrapped in his arms. Peter curled against his body and squeezed his hand again, as if he knew what Wade was thinking, “Don't.” He whispered again. 

That did it. 

Wade's heart finally burst. It cracked in his chest and imploded, splattering everything that was kept inside all over his chest. Wade pulled Peter closer to him and buried his face in his back so he wouldn't have to look at the window anymore. It hurts when your heart blows out. It leaves your chest empty but so full. Overwhelmed with the fact that there's nothing to contain everything you feel anymore, leaving it out in the open for anyone to see or to step on. Wade needed something to hide himself with so he used Peter's body as a shield. Spewing the contents of his heart all over his back. He squeezed Peter tighter. 

Wade started to weep. 

Peter forgave him. Every time he fucked up, Peter would forgive him. He may not understand why Wade acted so stupidly, but he forgave him anyway. And Wade couldn't believe it. Not this time. He didn't understand how. How could Peter just accept what he did and move on? How did Peter see potential in such garbage? Wade needed to know how he did it. Peter may forgive him, but Wade didn't forgive himself. Every time he let Peter down came rushing to his mind. The scenes playing over and over in his head. Wade shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the scenarios, but it just made them clearer. He tried to keep himself from shaking, trying not to wake Peter up. 

Shit, he loved this boy. 

“I'm sorry.” Wade cried another apology. But it wasn't just for what happened with Weapon-X, it was for everything. He was sorry for ever bothering Peter that night on the rooftop. He was sorry for ever asking to live with him. He was sorry for ever tagging along with him on missions. He was sorry for ever trying to get close to him. He was sorry for ever wanting something more.

Shit shit fucking shit. Why did ever have to fall in love with this boy?

“Hey.” Peter's voice was soft and he was still half asleep when he spoke, “Don't.” He squeezed Wade's hand.

And just like that, Wade's tears were put on pause. That was the third time Peter said that tonight. 

_Don't think like that._

_Don't cry._

_Don't go._

Wade held Peter as close as possible. How the hell could he possibly be thinking of leaving this boy? Because god fucking dammit he loved him. 

Wade was the big spoon. He had the choice.

Now or Never.

He chose never. Never ever ever. 

He made the choice. No more running. No more hiding. 

Wade chose to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have the first half of the cookie, the second half, and now you finally have the cream in the middle. (Kudos to whoever can figure out this metaphor) 
> 
> Can you hear it in the distance?
> 
> Can you sense it far away?
> 
> Is it old Rudolph the Reindeer?
> 
> Is it Santa in his sleigh?
> 
> No.
> 
> It's the Epilogue :)  
> (Also I know it's not the Holiday season but I had to add a Billy Eliot reference in here somewhere)


	36. Epilogue

Peter was rushing. And sure, maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to in a suit but he had to get to his and Wade's apartment in time before heading back to Stark Tower. He had just finished running some errands, his last stop being the flower shop picking up a bouquet for god knows what or who. Wade wouldn't tell him. Peter could only assume he wanted to do something nice for his fathers because they were heading over for dinner tonight. Tony practically insisted they have formal clothes on. Peter would have climbed up the side of their apartment complex because he was running short on time, but again, that wasn't suitable to be doing in a suit. So he took the stairs. 

“Wade!” He banged on their door, having forgotten his own key inside. Seconds later, Wade opened the door and Peter had to hold himself back from gasping. His eyes scanned Wade's body. He was shirtless and wore a pair of ratty jeans that were folded up at the ankles, he was bare foot, “Wade!” Peter shouted his name again, this time with more annoyance in his voice, “Why the hell aren't you ready?”

Peter watched Wade's eyes go from dull to confused to realization, “Oh fuck!” 

Peter groaned as he stepped instead their apartment. The familiar scent of old Chinese food and body spray filled his nose, it smelt like home. Granted, he and Wade weren't the cleanest of roommates, and one would think that after living together for a few months, nearly a year, that they would've figured out a way to keep their apartment clean. They didn't. And they probably never would. Peter set the flowers down on the kitchen counter and combed his fingers through his already gel slicked hair that still managed to stick up in tuffs. Wade had styled it, trying to get it slicked back but ended up going for a more 'messy but sexy on purpose' look. 

“Wade?” Peter called to his boyfriend that disappeared in their room nearly five minutes ago, “How's it going?” 

Wade grunted as he appeared in the hall. Peter would be lying if he said his cheeks didn't heat at the sight. Wade could pull off any dress and Peter half expected him to show up in one. But he didn't. He was wearing an actual black suit and damn he looked good. His tie hung loosely around his neck and his hands were shoved casually in the pockets of his jacket. Wade wore a pout on his face. 

“Petey, tie my tie for me.” 

Peter rolled his eyes and met Wade half way, “I know you know how to tie a tie.” Peter made the knot, fiddling with Wade's tie without even looking at it, they never broke eye contact. The crisp black of Wade's suit made his blue eyes that much brighter and stand out that much more. 

“I know.” Wade shrugged, “I just wanted to do this.” He grabbed Peter by his bow tie and pulled him forward, untying it in the process. Wade leaned down and their lips ungracefully were pressed together, just narrowly avoiding bumping their foreheads. It was just a quick peck, but it made Peter grin anyway.

“We really need to get going.” He said and fixed his bow tie. 

Wade checked his phone and typed a quick message before shoving it back in his pocket, “Alright, now we can go.” Peter didn't have time to answer before Wade kept talking, “Wait, do you think I should put on more axe?”

Peter let his hand fall into Wade's, “You smell fine. Now can we please go? Pops hates it when we're late.” 

“Sure thing sweet cheeks.” Wade clicked his tongue and pulled his mask over his head, however, he did leave it rolled up so that his mouth and the tip of his nose were exposed. Peter was glad he wasn't missing the smile Wade was wearing. It looked good on him. 

With the bouquet of flowers in one hand and Wade's hand in the other, they walked out the door. 

Peter wasn't rushing. 

~~

“We are so late.” Peter wasn't able to his the anxiousness out of his voice as him and Wade marched up the back staircase. 

“Only by like, half an hour or so.” Wade was being so casual about this Peter was starting to get suspicious. Normally Wade was at least a little bit nervous anytime they went to his parents' place, but tonight he was unnaturally calm. Peter raised an eyebrow at him and Wade's mouth twisted with thought, “What's that look for?” He grinned. Even his grin was suspicious.

“You're acting weird.” 

With his free hand, Wade drummed his fingers against his thigh, “I don't see how.”

“Uh-huh.” The only reason Peter decided to let it go was because they arrived. He had some serious explaining to do to Steve, there was no doubt he was gonna be standing in the living room, arms crossed and his blond eyebrows narrowed, turning his ice blue eyes into slits. As Wade opened the door and escorted Peter in, their elbows linked, Peter was expected to be met with the hallway light that always seemed a little too bright. But he wasn't. In fact, it was completely dark, “Uhhhh...” He let his voice drag out and echo down the hall. Even around the corner was dark and the living room ahead was pitch black. Peter glanced at Wade, but it was hard to see his face with no light, “Pops? Dad?” Peter called as they carefully stalked down the hallway. 

Nobody answered.

Peter's throat tightened but his Spidey-sense wasn't going off.

It wasn't until a loud 'hurrah' run through the darkness did he nearly jump into Wade's arms. The lights flickered on and revealed a living room almost expertly decorated with balloons and streamers and his Uncle Thor with two fist in the air. A few low groans followed before everyone else came out of their hiding spots. Everyone was here: Clint and Natasha, Bruce and Aunt May, Thor and even Loki. And of course in the center of it all were Peter's parents, Steve and Tony. 

“Thor, you jumped up to early!” It was Clint who got to scold him, almost having a whine to his voice, “And it's suppose to be 'surprise' not 'hurrah.'” 

Peter saw Loki mouth the word 'imbecile' as Thor wrapped an arm around his slimmer partner, “Tis not my fault, I was merely excited for our young spider.” 

Peter blinked and swallowed the lump of forgotten worry in his throat, “Um,” he began, “What the hell's going on?”

Steve's warm smile caught his eye, “It's your surprise party honey.”

Peter tilted his head, “But, my birthday was like, a week ago.” 

“If we did this on your actual birthday, it wouldn't be a surprise now would it squirt?” Tony grinned and took a drink from the glass he already had in his hands, “Besides, this was all Wade's idea anyway.” 

Peter glanced at the man he was still holding hands with, shocked, “You put this together?”

Wade smiled down at him and in this moment Peter wished he could see Wade's eyes, “Yup.” 

“Then the flowers...”

“Are for you baby boy.”

He wore a playful frown, “You made me pickup my own flowers?” 

“Right again.” 

Peter laughed, shaking his head. Alright, so this was unexpected. They actually surprised him. Peter never liked parties, and he hates surprises even more, but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. They already celebrated his birthday last week, having had just a small party with only him and Wade, then popping in to see his parents and Aunt May. That was enough to satisfy Peter, no presents needed. But now, the child in him couldn't help but let his gaze fall on the pile of gifts in the corner of the living room. After scanning the rest of the room, Peter let his eyes fall back on Wade. He smiled and kissed him quickly, “Thanks Wade.”

The small bit of Wade's cheeks that were showing turned a dusty pink, “Anything for you babe.”

“Ha! Gaaaaaaaaay!” Clint cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. Nat shoved him but Peter knew it was all in good fun. It took a while for everyone to come around to the idea of him and Wade, in fact Peter still wasn't sure everyone liked him. They just didn't say anything, so that was better than the alternative. 

Thor clasped his hands together, “Now come forth! Let's commence in the games of the party!”

Peter's eyes widened, “Party games?” He hated party games. And to be honest he wasn't the biggest fan on parties either. He remembered the one time he went to a 'friend's' birthday party as a kid and it just turned into a big 'make fun of the kid who has two dads' fest. Kids could be mean. Peter tried to run home but didn't know the way and ended up getting lost. Tony had to do a scan of the city in order to find Peter that day, it's amazing what an 8 year old with webs in his wrists could do. From that day on he hated parties. He hated the fact that he could never have them and the fact that his parents could never attend. But now he was older, now his parents were here, and they were gonna play party games, apparently. 

“You don't think we'd let you get away with a boring party do ya?” Of course Clint wouldn't, he was always considered the 'fun uncle' anyway. Clint grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him forward, his hand slipping from Wade's. Peter glanced back over his shoulder at Wade, who didn't move a muscle. He just smiled, and at Wade's smile, Peter's hand felt lonely. 

~~

The party wasn't anything special. It was fun, but most people ending up getting drunk. And Peter, being the only one under the age of 21, had loads of fun just sitting there and remaining sober. Thor brought some of his special Asgardian alcohol that Peter wasn't even allowed to smell or else they say he'll get drunk. The games they played were pretty fun, but they would have been more fun if Peter could just have one drink. He didn't, but he did win stupid little prizes that would probably end up in his junk drawer. Peter was actually surprised at how normal all the party games were though, he expected bias power based ones, but he got surprised. They were all average. They played: 

Hold it up (Who could hang upside down the longest. Peter won, obviously, he does it all the time). 

Sticker stalker. (This one was fun. Everyone got a pad of stickers and whoever could stick all their stickers to people without them noticing first, wins. Nat won.)

Newlywed game, family addition. (Everyone broke off into pairs and basically had to see how well they know each other. Peter and Wade won this one but, surprisingly, Aunt May and Bruce came a close second.)

Family History Charades. (This one was Peter's favourite. It's basically normal charades but you act out moments spent with family. Steve won. Peter didn't even know someone could win at charades.)

The last game they played was called 'Things.' It's where someone writes down a thing, like, 'Things that make you laugh' then everyone writes an answer and you try to guess who wrote what. By this time everyone was drunk and laughing their asses off. Nobody's answers made any sense. Nobody won. (However Peter counted this as a win towards himself since he was the only one who was able to answer properly). 

Oh yeah, there was one more thing that left Peter smiling for the evening. 

Drunk Wade. 

It was odd at first, since Peter thought Wade could never get drunk. But even his healing factor wasn't any match for Thor's special booze. And drunk Wade was fucking hilarious, well, more than usual. The whole night Peter couldn't take his eyes off him. He loved how well Wade seemed to fit in with his family. They may not like Deadpool, but Wade was a hit. There was once a time Peter wanted Wade to give up being Deadpool completely. He soon realized that would never happened, Deadpool was as much apart of Wade as Spiderman is to him. But over the months, Wade did an excellent job cleaning up Deadpool's name. He was still a mercenary, but he took killing completely off the table and only did jobs that had virtue. Deadpool had morals, he had standards. And Peter couldn't be prouder. 

Peter sat on the sofa, quietly sipping orange soda as everyone else mingled. He was feeling pretty drained and almost wished the party would end soon. He missed his bed. His warm blankets and soft pillow and the feeling of Wade beside him. Peter considered stepping out for fresh air, the smell of alcohol almost sickeningly strong now. But maybe in a few minutes.

As if on cue, Wade plopped himself on the couch beside Peter. An arm wrapping around his shoulder and his head lolling to the side before resting on Peter's shoulder. 

“Heeey baby boy!” Wade hiccuped and Peter chuckled.

“Having fun Wade?”

“You betcha!” He buried his face in Peter's neck and Peter felt his own cheeks flush. Wade let his breaths linger before finally kissing his neck. By now some of his family started looking at them and Peter knew his cheeks went from rose to a dark pink in a matter of seconds, he pushed Wade off of him and had to keep pushing his head back because Wade kept trying.

“Wade.” Peter hissed through his teeth, “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to have some fun.” He whine and slouched forward but quickly got up with another bright idea, “Oh! Drink with me!”

“What?”

“Drink. With. Me.” 

Peter shifted his gaze from side to side before giving Wade an 'are you serious' look, “Wade, I'm not 21. I'm 20.”

“You're 20? You're 20.” The puzzlement in Wade's voice was apparent but Peter couldn't quite figure out why. Then Wade gasped, “You're 20!”

Peter had to drop his confusion and laugh, “Yeah, you said it three times.”

Wade clasped his hand over Peter's knee excitedly and their eyes met through his mask, “I gotta ask you!”

Okay, now Peter's confusion was back again and he assumed the worst, “A-Ask me what?” He couldn't help but fidget with his hands as Wade seemed to take his dear sweet time to answer. He got down on one knee and tapped down his body then cursed.

“Shit, I don't got anything.” 

By this time everyone was staring at them and it was only a matter of seconds before Peter would transform into a tomato.

“Eh, I'll do it anyway.” Wade said with a shrug of his shoulders before taking one of Peter's hands in his and Peter could swear he could physically feel everyone's eyes on them, “Ahem, Petey-Pie, love of my life, sweetums, baby boy, will you marry me?” 

Peter felt his eyes go wide as he heard what Wade said, but it didn't feel real. Peter knew everyone was reacting around them. He heard the gasps and the angered 'what!?s' and probably a string of a few curses. But everyone felt so far away. Uncle Clint already had his bow and arrow pointed at Wade's head, Tony had one of his Ironman gauntlets and Nat was clutching her guns tightly. Thor was there ready with Mjolnir while Steve just stood there, his head in one hand and Aunt May with her mouth hanging open in the other. But Peter paid no attention to them. He couldn't. His eyes wouldn't move away from Wade who still wore that silly smirk on his face. 

“So?” 

He bit his lip, “Um...”

“Peter, don't answer him.” Tony was using his dad voice, “Wade, step away from my son.” 

This, apparently, caught Wade off guard as his head darted from side to side, finally noticing the majority of the Avenger's team pointing weapons at him, “Why are you all looking at me like that?” He looked back at Peter as if to say 'what's up with them?' Peter's cheeks burned to the point where he thought his face might melt off and he sunk into the couch, but not far enough. He wished he could sink so far back into the cushions that they would absorb him and he would hide in pillow fluffiness forever. He covered his face with one hand and almost pulled back at the heat of it. Peter wanted to hide. To run and hide and never show his face anywhere again. 

Wade hiccuped then stood up, brushing himself off. Everyone's weapons moved as he moved. He played with this for a bit, moving to the left and watching everyone follow, then to the right and back again. Wade looked over his shoulder and smiled, “Hey Pete, get'a load of them.” 

“Uhhh...” Peter was speechless. That was the only way to describe it. He was completely and utterly speechless, losing all brain and tongue function, he just stared at Wade blankly. 

Tony moved to point his gauntlet at Peter, “Peter! Don't you dare say yes!”

Before anyone had the chance to say anything, Wade spoke up, “Of course he wouldn't say yes.”

Now all eyes were on Wade and almost in unison, they all said, “What?”

Wade gave another casual shrug of his shoulders and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, “It was a joke.” Peter felt his throat go dry and his mind cloud, but his heart kept racing. Everyone just stared at Wade as if urging him to continue. So he did, “I wasn't seriously asking Peter, I just owed it to him. You see in Chapter 13 when I was asking Petey-Pie if he wanted to be boyfriend-boyfriend, he made a joke saying 'I'm not gonna marry you at 19 Wade, ask again once I'm 20' cause I was a stuttering mess and couldn't get the question out so- you know...it just isn't funny when you have to explain it. The moment's gone.” 

But the moment wasn't just gone, so was Peter. He had absentmindedly gotten up and made his way to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him then buried his face in his hands. 

God. What the hell was Wade thinking?

He walked over to the bathroom sink and splashed cold water on his face, focusing on the cooling sensation in hopes to ease his nerves. Never in his life had he felt more embarrassed. His heart was still pounding. Whether from the shock or excitement, he couldn't tell. And he definitely didn't want to know. Because of the running water and the forcefulness of his beating heart, Peter almost didn't hear the knock on the door. Seconds later, Steve poked his head in.

“Sweetie? You alright?” 

Peter swallowed a sickening lump in his throat and forced a weak smile, “Yeah, Pops, you can come in.” 

Steve walked in and shut the door behind him with a soft click, “That was quite a show Wade put on.”

“Is he still going?”

“Oh yeah, does he ever stop?”

Peter laughed at his dad's joke and shook his head. They both knew the answer. Wade never stopped talking. Ever. Even if the situation was dire and silence was key, he would always think of something to say. On the bright side, it never made for awkward silence. Peter thought about the first time he introduced Wade to his parents. Oh the conversations they had. A smile tugged its way to Peter's lips at the thought. Wade's chatty, it's one of the things he loved most about him. Except at a time like this. Except now. The vision of Wade down on one knee brought blood rushing to Peter's cheeks and his heartbeat to his throat. 

“You wanna come back to the party?” Steve spoke softly, like he did when Peter was a kid. His eyes kind and understanding for whatever decision Peter may come up with. Comfort radiated off of him and Peter couldn't help but smile at his father. 

“In a sec, I think I'm gonna grab some air first.” 

Steve nodded his head slowly, eyes closed and content, before leaving the bathroom. Peter didn't take long to follow, except as Steve made his way back to the living room, Peter found his way up the stairs leading to the roof's helicopter landing pad. He sat near on the edge, letting the wind blow his hair across his eyes like a curtain. The large letters spelling out Stark (or just an A if you prefer the design of the Avengers tower better) could be seen behind Peter's back. Once when he was little, he found his way to the landing pad and onto the letters. He sat in the space at the top of the A (The A in Stark or the Avengers A, you'll never know bitch). This, of course, didn't go over well with his parents and Peter was grounded for a week afterwards. But if he ever needed alone time, he would always go back to that A. But for tonight, the helicopter landing pad was good enough. Peter let his feet dangle over the edge, a dangerous stunt maybe, but it made him smile. It was much windier up here than it was on any normal rooftop, but it was also a bit darker. All the city lights were below him, since Stark tower was so high. It illuminated the ground and each building was like a stepping stone of light. Peter could almost swear he'd be able to jump from building to building until he reached the stars. 

A cloud of breath followed his happy sigh, his suit barely kept out the cool autumn air. A low growl came deep withing his stomach, remembering that he didn't even get to eat supper yet. Now Peter was cold, alone, and hungry. Though he kinda asked for the alone part by sneaking off. And it was paying off. His head felt a million times lighter. 

“Sounds like someone's hungry.” The voice from behind him didn't startle Peter, he knew who was coming before they even walked on the roof. It wasn't his spidey-sense that gave it away, it didn't even go off. It was the comforting musky smell and the low familiar voice that he came to adore over the year that told him who it was. Peter recognized Wade's words, he recognized this situation. A smile so big split his face that his cheeks started to cramp. Peter turned around to see Wade standing a few feet behind him, hands placed casually in the pockets of his jacket. The tails of his suit caught and blowing in the wind behind him. And with the fading sunlight and growing moonlight, Wade never looked more handsome. 

To keep the reference going, Peter remembered the exact words he said before. This time, spoken with more kindness than what was bearable, “What do you want Deadpool?”

(For the lovely cunt suckers that don't remember, go back to Chapter 1. This situation is fairly similar to that of which when Peter and Wade first came in contact with each other in this fanfic.)

Wade came and sat beside Peter, but once he saw how high they were, he scooted a little closer to him, draping his arm around his shoulders, “Do you really wanna know the answer to that question?”

Peter pretended to think for a moment, “I think I'm good.” 

“Ha, good. Cause now you can answer my question. What you doing up here baby boy?” 

“Oh, I just came to get some air, the party was getting a little hectic-” Peter stopped in the middle of his sentence to look at Wade in shock, “Wait, are you sober now?”

He grinned, “Yeah, sure am.”

“But...you were completely wasted a few minutes ago.”

Wade scratched the back of his neck then pulled off his Deadpool mask, a glint of guilt in his eyes as he stared down at his lap, “To be honest, I sobered up a little while ago. Most of it was me just over dramatizing it.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “Wait, so when you proposed?”

“I was probably 80% sober, I just thought it'd be funny.”

Peter couldn't find it in himself to be mad, but the wind did feel extra cold against his burning cheeks, “Fuck you.” He said halfheartedly, a smile betraying the pissed off presence he was suppose to be wearing. 

Silence fell over the two boys, or should I say men now since Peter is officially out of his teens. But they're my babies so I'm sticking with boys. Silence fell over the two boys, the noises of New York seemed so distant from up on the roof. Wade leaned back on the heels of his hands as one brushed over Peter's, their fingers lightly touching each other's. 

“Hey Pete?”

Peter glanced over at Wade, but he didn't meet his gaze. Wade was too busy staring up at the star lit sky. It was like he was talking to it rather than to the person beside him, “Yeah?”

“I didn't try to kill myself tonight.”

If Peter would have been drinking something, he would've spit it out. He sat upright and ridged, his fingers gaining a slight grip on Wade's hand, “W-What?”

Wade continued as if he didn't just say something completely insane. His voice staying calm and his eyes bright, “For the first time in my life I found an alcohol that numbs my healing factor. I've tried countless times to do this, get so drunk that I lose my healing ability. That way I can finally put a bullet through my skull once and for all.” 

Peter's chest tightened at Wade's words. What the hell was he saying?

“But,” Wade paused for a moment as if preparing himself to say words he's never spoken before, “I didn't about that tonight, not once. I didn't think about dying.” 

For some reason, Wade's odds words warmed Peter's heart, “So what did you think about instead?”

Finally, he looked at Peter. Their eyes met with an electric shock that sparked smiles on their faces. The dimming city lights reflected in Wade's perfectly blue eyes and Peter released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Once upon a time he was drowning in Wade's eyes, overwhelmed by the life that was hidden within them. Now every time he looked at them, Peter felt as if he was floating. 

“I thought about how great your ass looks in dress pants.” Wade's tone wasn't serious, but his words were. He brought their foreheads together, the tips of their noses just barely brushing each other and Peter couldn't stop his eyes from darting to Wade's lips that were covered in Berry Smoothie chap stick this evening. 

_Tempting_ Peter thought, but he held off the urge to kiss him

Peter smirked and played along, “So that's why you were staring at me all evening.” 

Wade scoffed, “Excuse me? Don't act as if you couldn't take your eyes off me, I saw you staring lover boy.”

Peter couldn't deny that fact, basically the whole party he spent staring at Wade. He was glad for the quickly darkening sky, maybe that way his blush wasn't as visible as it felt. He tried to muster up an explanation but ended up a stuttering mess, “I wasn't- I mean, I was but- b-but I didn't-” Peter was cut off as Wade pressed his lips against his. The taste of berries filled his mouth and drifted his eyes closed, completely losing himself in the feeling of it all. Wade moved to kiss Peter's jaw, pausing once his lips were near his ear.

“I fucking love you Peter Parker.” Wade whispered and Peter now knew that it wasn't the cold autumn air sending chills down his spine. 

Peter tilted his head back so that he locked eyes with Wade for second before placing a kiss near the corner of his mouth, “I fucking love you too, Wade Wilson.” 

Wade Wilson. 

The words felt so familiar on Peter's tongue yet so foreign, as if they were words he wasn't meant to say. But they felt so right and left a tingling sensation on his lips. Or maybe that was the after effect of Wade's kiss, Peter couldn't be sure. All he knew for certain was that his lips grew lonelier the longer the seconds passed. He wrapped a hand on the back of Wade's neck and pulled him into another kiss. 

“Marry me?” Wade whispered between the light kisses, sometimes their lips barely grazed each other's. This trick always left Peter wanting more.

He smiled into the kiss, a lighthearted chuckle escaping from his mouth, “Ask again once I'm 21.”

He felt Wade grin, “It's a deal.”

A gust of wind blew through them and left Peter shivering. 

“Damn.” Wade whispered.

“What?”

“I was hoping to strip you of your suit and do you on this roof. But I can't do that if you're cold.” Wade broke the kiss and stood, extending his hand to help Peter up, “Should we go back to the party?”

Peter smiled as Wade hoisted him up, “That would be the socially acceptable thing to do.”

Without another word, Wade swept him off his feet and carried him like a bride back inside. He stumbled a lot and they just barely squeezed in the stairway together. This whole night, this situation, Wade himself, they were all perfectly imperfect. They were all flawed.

And that's just the way Peter liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End Motherfuckers
> 
> This is the part where I'm suppose to thank you for all the kudos and comments and support and shit like that, so, thanks my guys ;) 
> 
> Not really sure what I'm going to write next, don't know which fandom, but I'll think of something. (I'm thinking of a Superfamily fanfic kinda like a prequel to this all about Peter growing up, but no promises. I'm kinda unreliable.)
> 
> Until then,  
> Au'revoir et merci


End file.
